


Five Dreams of a Wolf Girl and a Promised Prince

by Sookiestark



Series: Twelve Days of Westerosi Christmas [11]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 5 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, F/M, First Time, Language, Magic, Prophetic Dreams, Prophetic Visions, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-01 17:57:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13300200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sookiestark/pseuds/Sookiestark
Summary: Aegon V decided to intervene on his granddaughter's behalf and stop the wedding between Aerys and Rhaella. Rhaella gets a magic gift from the woods witch to see the future.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Since this series is mostly made up of happy moments or what-ifs that might make some of my favorite ships or characters have a chance at happiness... I struggled with what to write for the 11th story. I had a Tommen and Margaery, a Willas and Brienne (that may still come out), a Robb and Roslin, and a few others.. I came to Rhaella because I think it is incredibly sad and I want her to have some happiness. I think one of the things that I also think is so sad is that she was so young when she was married. So anyway, in the spirit of happiness, I am not entirely sure if the story will be five people she was married to (each a different alternative universe) or if it will be a story about her search to find a groom.

I always loved my Grandfather. He was my favorite person in the Red Keep, Aegon the Unlikely. King Aegon Targaryen, Fifth of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Man, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. To the small folk, he was their King. To the lords, he was their bane, giving away their power with each decree he signed. To me, he was my Grandfather and my favorite person in my little girl world. 

Often, I would sit with him and he would tell me stories of the Targaryen Kings and Queens of old. He would have me name their dragons, one after another, Balerion, Meraxes, Vhagar, Seasmoke, Caraxes, Moondancer, Sunfyre, and on and on. As he sat on the Iron Throne, I would run from skull to skull, calling out their names and he would laugh. I would run to him and he would swing me in his arms in the light of the Seven Pointed Star that reflected down in colored panes. 

Grandpa Egg. I was his only granddaughter. He would tell me how special I was to him. I had been named after his sister, Rhae. He had loved his sister very much and when she had died, he had been heartbroken. Grandfather had loved his sister like a sister, not like Father loved his sister, my mother. Targaryens were known to practice the marriage of brother and sister, but Septa had told me that was called incest and sinful to the Seven. 

I would sneak away from my Septa and my nurses and find my way to his solar or the library to sit among his books on the soft woven carpet from the Riverlands and let him tell me stories. He had the best stories. When he was a child, his father had let him squire for Ser Duncan, who at the time was just a hedge knight and not the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Ser Duncan and him had ridden from Dorne all the way to the Wall, pledging to local lords and doing good deeds for the small folk. Once as a boy, Grandfather had stopped a Blackfyre rebellion without lifting a sword. Whenever Grandpa would say this, Ser Duncan would snort and mumble that it may be true but it had nearly killed him.

“Grandpa, I would like to be a squire and travel with Ser Duncan.” 

“You would make an excellent squire, my love, but you were born a girl and a princess. We need to find you a proper husband to marry. But we will find you an excellent husband. Anyway, Ser Duncan is too old to be a hedge knight anymore.”

At this, Ser Duncan would snort or cough and Grandpa would smile a devilish smile at me. 

If I had a second favorite person, it would have been Ser Duncan. He was the tallest person in court, and I liked to think he might be part giant. I had told him that once and he had laughed. It was a gentle sound. When I was seven, there was a Tourney and I saw Ser Duncan unhorse thirteen knights, all younger, but none more skilled. 

When he had won, I had thrown my arms around him and told him that I wanted to marry him.  
Grandfather had laughed and Ser Duncan had told me that I could not marry him for he could have no wife, since he was in the Kingsguard. I had said that if I could not marry Ser Duncan, I would marry a knight like him, brave and steady, protecting the small folk, riding across the Seven Kingdoms, a tall, handsome knight who valued the tenants of chivalry.

When I was a girl, my father, Prince Jaehaerys, was very sickly, often with chills and aches and migraines, in his bed. My mother was often with him, reading books out loud to him and waiting on him as he needed. I would try my best to stay out of her way and cause her no reason to have to pull her away from father’s bedside. Often, she was relieved to see that I could occupy myself without her attention or affection. Because of this, I was called good, obedient, and dutiful.

Aerys, my older brother, was the opposite of me in every way. When he would see Mother worried or paying attention to father, he would often throw tantrums or pout so that she must attend to Aerys, as well. Most of the time, he needed to be the center of attention. My Uncles, Duncan and Daeron, would often spend time with Aerys, teaching him to fight and ride and shoot. All the Lords who visited King’s Landing would spend a great deal of attention to my brother. After all, he would be the King of the Seven Kingdoms someday. My brother had the attention of the Seven Kingdoms, but it still did not seem enough.

My brother had two close friends. One was our cousin, Steffon Baratheon. Steffon had black hair and violet blue eyes. He was handsome and tall and good with a sword. His other friend was Tywin Lannister. Tywin was the heir to Casterly Rock and had been a page to the King since he was ten years old. He was as fair as Steffon was dark, though both were tall and handsome. Tywin was quieter than either of the other two boys, but his eyes held an intelligence and he had an air of authority, even as a boy. Tywin was also a good swordsman, but would read histories of battles and discuss strategy with any lord or knight who would talk with him about it. My grandfather would tease Tywin and say that one day he would be Hand to the King, laughing in his good natured way, Tywin would look pleased, but never smile or laugh. 

My grandfather had three weaknesses, magic, love, and me. It was not unusual for Targaryen Kings to have wizards, astrologers and mages in their court or to listen to their counsel. I knew our history I knew the stories of my ancestors. My grandfather was no different than his uncles and his grandfather's before him. He desperately longed for the return of the dragons and Targaryen might and power. It was said that my grandfather dreamed of the dragons since he was born and he could hear their wings beating in his sleep. 

Shortly before my birth, my Aunt Jenny married my Uncle Duncan. The story of their love was a deeply romantic. My Uncle Duncan had been riding in the riverlands and Jenny had come out of the woods with other girls, morning glory and lily of the valley flowers in her hair and barefoot. Immediately, he had fallen madly in love with her, starting a war, when he broke his betrothal to House Baratheon. Duncan would not relent and give her up, so he gave up the throne for her. It was said that the King, his father, had only allowed it because he had been able to marry for love. 

Aunt Jenny was pretty, quick to laugh, quick to dance and the first one to let me sit in her lap, if Grandfather was busy. Her symbol at court was the lily of the valley, her favorite flower. Because the lily of the valley was known to be poisonous, some said that it showed Jenny dabbled in the dark arts and she had bewitched my uncle into marrying her. Some said that the fact she had never gotten pregnant, even after being married to my uncle for all the years, showed she was a user of the dark arts. The biggest sign that she was a dark witch was Mab, the albino dwarf woods witch that was Jenny’s dearest friend and trusted advisor. Mab was said to see visions, read fortunes, and work spells. 

It was Mab who foretold the coming of the dragons, that they would be reborn again soon. She had prophesied on the day my parents were wed, that with their union the dragons would return. My grandfather would smile to think of the dragons and the good he could do in Westeros with a dragon. 

Mab was more than just a curiosity. I could sense the danger from her, the magic coursed in her blood like the green sticky sap in a tree, and it sang to me. Sometimes, when I looked at her, I could see the Children of the Forest, dancing wildly around a heart’s tree. Sometimes, I could see the day she was born and abandoned on the steps of a motherhouse. Sometimes, I could feel the burning of my entire family when she looked at me. I did not understand what it could all mean and I was afraid I was prone to the madness that sometimes swallowed Targaryens. 

When I was eleven, I was picking wildflowers in the godswood. I had wanted to make a flower crown for myself. Mab was sitting on a stump near the hearts tree and her eyes were closed, as if she was resting in the cool dark of the godswood. As a small child she frightened me, I remembered thinking that I might leave her to her rest alone. 

Before I left her to her sleep, I remembered how Mab’s flower crowns were so pleasing, for she had quick nimble fingers and the flower crowns she made would last for nearly a fortnight before the flowers withered and the petals fell. Slowly, I approached her trying to not frighten her. In an instant, her eyes opened and she looked at me. 

Some people thought she was more magical because she was a dwarf. Some said that it showed her wicked nature, what was on the inside was visible on the outside. I knew that was wrong because my brother Aerys was very handsome, as pretty as any girl and he was cruel and vain. However, she still frightened me because even as a child I knew her magic was real.. 

 

Mab spoke, “Princess, what do you seek in the forest today?”

“Forgive me I didn't mean to disturb you I just wanted a crown of flowers and your fingers are the most nimble and your work the most fine.” 

The witch laughed. “Perhaps tis true, but the crowns I make will fade and the crown you will wear will not.” 

I did not understand her, “I am sorry . I do not understand what you speak.”

“Why, you will marry your brother? The Prince who was Promised to save the world in the dark days to come. The dragon must have three heads and all three come from your line with Aerys. I have told the King and your parents of my dreams..”

What most people didn’t know was that Aerys was cruel to me. Aerys was jealous of me and the time that Grandfather would spend with me. He would tell me that I was a stupid girl, weak and pathetic. Once, I told him that I had seen him in the yard, sparring and he was no warrior compared to others; he was the weak and pathetic one. He had pushed me hard and I had fallen on the ground, hitting my head on the stones. I had gone to Grandpa, bleeding and crying. When he had heard what had happened, he had looked at me and sent for Aerys to chastise him, leaving me in the care of my nurse.

Still a child, I was not as in control of my emotions as I would be, so I fell to my knees, crying. I looked her in the eyes. “Please no. My lady, please tell me you did not tell my father this.. Aerys is cruel and unkind.”

She softened and she rubbed my head, “I am sorry, Princess, but I told them all last night. You will flower by the end of the week and by next year, you will be wedded and bedded.”

“Please..”

“I am sorry Princess but your destiny is much greater than love. You will be the mother and grandmother to legends.”

She left me to my grief and my wilting flowers.

Aerys came to my room late that night and woke me up. “Rhaella, you had better be nice to me. One day, I will be your King and your husband.”

I had looked at him in the firelight, “Aerys, leave me be. Do not gloat. It is unattractive.”

“Father says that I will marry you, even though you are thin, and flat, with no shape like a boy. You should be nicer to me because one day I will be able to do whatever I want to you. And you will have to submit to whatever I want. You will be my wife. You will live to please me. It will be your duty.”  
As he left, he knocked over a whole shelf of my toys and books, leaving me to my tears and my duty. 

As Mab predicted, in three nights, I flowered. Mother came in to tell me that now I could be wed and that she and my father had decided that Aerys would be my husband. When she left, I thought about how I could escape. As I made grand escape plans, the night grew late. When it was the Hour of the Wolf, Mab knocked on door and shuffled in my room, shutting the door behind her.

She spoke to me, “You have dragon dreams. I see it in you. The Dragons will be reborn in your blood and your brother’s. You must marry. It must be so. But I know a little of a young girl’s grief and a wish to be loved. So, I have made you a potion to show you your future. Once you see what must be, will be, you will do your duty.”

Mab gave me a small green bottle filled with a thick black liquid. “Kiss your brother and take one hair from his head and twirl it between your fingers before you sleep. Drink this bottle and that night you will dream of the future. You will see it is necessary. You will see. You will see how all need you to sacrifice.” 

The very next day, I decided to see if this elixir would do what Mab said. I went looking for my brother. Aerys was flirting with Joanna and Dorea, my new ladies- in- waiting, when I approached him. I had spent the night thinking of a plan how to get him to kiss me.

I wore a new dress that was a lower cut than I had ever won. I could tell that it was sufficiently provocative by the sour look on my Septa’s face. I sauntered over as worldly and enticingly, as I could. I leaned into Aerys closer than I prefered to be. Yet, being so close to him, I felt the blood of the Dragon in him. It called to me like Mab’s did, except his was burning lava and hot metal melting, coursing through him, pure heat. 

I whispered, licking my lips and trying to make my eyes bigger, “If you kiss me, Aerys, Joanna will be jealous. By now, she will have heard rumors of our engagement. Kiss me and she will give you all her kisses. Maybe, she will give you more than a kiss.” 

I knew it was manipulative but I needed him to kiss me.

“Kiss me, Brother.” I played, flirting like the women I had seen draped over him. He grabbed me, his hand tight on my waist, and kissed me softly, as the autumn leaves blew around the garden of the Red Keep. It was heady stuff. Desire burst from my chest and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. Instinctively, my body called to his body, like I had always needed him to kiss me, like I had waited my whole life for that kiss. 

When we parted, we were both breathless. I could feel he was hard against me. He looked at me like a starving man and his lips were blood red and wet.

I laughed, afraid at what had happened, the way my body had reacted to him. I put my hands on his chest to steady myself and I plucked a long silver hair that had fallen on his jacket. His eyes were dark and I did not think he would let me go. Now, that I was in his arms, he would never let me go. Maybe, this had been the Mab's plan all along.

 

For a second, he pulled me close to him to breathe the scent of my hair, growling against my ear. A delicious ache started in my stomach and trailed to my sex. Quickly, he pushed me away. Meeting Joanna’s eyes, I could see plainly that she was furious and anxious that my brother and I shared such a compelling kiss.

That night, I placed his hair around my finger, wrapping it like it was a ring. I took a small sip of the potion, certain it was going to kill me and fell asleep. In the darkness of my dreams, I heard the steady beat of dragon wings, and the sound of a winter’s storm. Opening my eyes, I saw myself in the Red Keep, in my bedroom. 

I sat up and went to the door of her bedroom. 

Opening the door, I found a man at the door dressed all in black, with long silver haired tied back. “Welcome, Princess.” 

“Do I know you, Ser?”

He smiled, “You do not, but I know you. I have waited for you to come to the land of the dreams for many years. How much time do we have?”

“Mab told me just this once.” 

He smiled bigger, “Maybe, once for a normal, simple, silly girl, but not you. You didn’t drink all the brew, did you? I will see you four more times besides this night. Come we have much to see.” 

The man led me to the Throne Room in this dream world of the Red Keep. When we walked into the throne room, there were seven windows, three on the left side and three on the right and one in the middle in front of the throne. Each of the windows was covered in a different tapestry of a sigil. Some I could make out clearly like a Baratheon Stag or a Lannister Lion. Some I could not see, as if they were underwater, blurry. The stranger guided me to the middle window. It was covered with a three headed dragon for House Targaryen. 

“Pull back the tapestry and you will see your life as Queen Rhaella Targaryen, wife of Aerys II.”

My small hand was trembling, as I pulled back the curtain and the cover fluttered to the floor. 

It was like watching memories, glimpses of my life still unlived, watching it unfold. I saw myself at thirteen getting married in the Sept of Baelor while the entire city cheered. I saw my brother’s courtesy, at first, and a sweetness I had not seen in him. Still, there were Aerys infidelities and mistresses parade themselves about court, including Joanna Lannister. At fourteen, almost nine months to the day of our wedding, I saw myself give birth to a boy as handsome as her husband and as bookish as father, Rhaegar. In a tragedy of fire, towers burning and Targaryens dying, she grasped Ser Duncan’s hand and he died, as her son slipped into the world. 

I saw it clear a boy growing tall and true, haunted by dreams and prophecy. I dreamed of the stillbirths and miscarriages of my children, My lifetime was made up of Aerys’ disdain and adultery and then Aerys madness, raping me while he smelled of wildfire and burnt flesh. Then, there was another child, another boy, small and troubled, Viserys. Images of me wiping away the tears and hiding the bruises before I saw him in the nursery.

I saw Rhaegar coming to me and trying to soothe me, “Mother, do not cry. Do not worry. I will protect you. I have a plan.” I saw Rhaegar getting married to a Martell girl, Dorea’s daughter and there was grief, only grief. Then, I saw a wolf girl dressing like a knight and riding out and defeating three men in the lists at Harrenhal. Rhaegar crowned this wild girl with dark hair the Queen of Love and Beauty, but around her neck she wore a necklace of the skulls of men and wolves. 

I spoke to the man beside me, watching with me. “This wolf girl?”

“Aye,” the silver haired man spoke, “she is important..”

I watched my son, Rhaegar, drawn to her like I was drawn to Aerys. Regardless of all, Rhaegar would have her, through war and broken promises, and broken hearts. Even when he was dying in a river, his chest burst open with a hammer, his last words were of her 

“Lyanna..” he said. 

Her next image was of this girl only a little older than her dying in a tower surrounded by mountains, in a bed of blood, as the smell of winter roses hung heavy in the air. There was a baby with dark hair and light eyes wrapped in a blanket and handed to a wet nurse.

“Why do you show me such horrors and pain? How could anyone choose this life?”

“Princess, he is the Prince who was Promised.” 

“He is a tiny thing, helpless and alone.”

“He will get bigger, big enough to fill legends.” 

Tasting my own tears, my last glimpse was my own bloody and dying body and handing my baby daughter to a knight in my service. “Take care of her and Viserys. Here is my crown for my son. Now go. Leave me for the rebels to find.” 

The images in the window went dark. I was crying. “What will become of them? Tiny babies orphaned in a cruel world.”

The man spoke, The baby boy will be fine. Soon, his uncle will come. Your daughter will be Queen of many countries and the Mother of Dragons.” 

“What of Viserys?”

The man shook her head and would not speak. “It is time to wake, Princess, and decide”. 

Walking with tears dried on my face and soaked in sweat, I woke up knowing I would do all I could to not marry Aerys.

 

It was then, I decided to throw myself into the sea or from my window. I would die rather than marry Aerys. But, even as I resolved to commit suicide, I knew that I was Rhaella the Dutiful, Rhaella the Good, Rhaella the Quiet. I would never really throw myself in the sea. After all, the sorrow and pain I would call my mother, my father, and my grandfather. In the back of my head, I heard the idea that I might be the direct line of man who would save the world. If my body was dead, what would happen to all the future generations if my body wasn’t around to carry this magical child, or the child who would mother this savior? Would all perish?

If I married Aerys, I would be the Mother to a legend who would save the world. Who cared if I lived a life of sorrow if my one purpose was to give birth to a child? No one cared about what I felt or thought. My womb was more important than anything as transitory as my feeling, my wants. What are one silly girl’s wants compared to the future of mankind?

In that moment, I resolved myself. I wanted more than to already be written on the page of legends as the unhappy but dutiful princess. My sorrow was already a footnote in a greater story, but I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my happiness, just so the world could survive. I wanted love and romance. I wanted a boy who would win tourneys for me and say that I would be the Queen of Love and Beauty. 

Suddenly, I realized I was more alike to Aerys than I had ever thought. I was Rhaella the Rebellious, Rhaella the Selfish. It brought me great shame and I started crying, trapped in a story that there was no way to get out and desperate to find a way to rewrite it.

I thought about stealing a horse and riding to Dorne, or the North. However, I had no skills and did not know how I would earn my way in the world without my family. Also, I knew that Ser Duncan and the Kingsguard would not rest until I was found. I would be surprised if I made it to the walls of the city. 

I began to think about throwing myself from the window, but I realized I was too afraid. I started to cry.

 

I was crying when my Grandfather came to my room. I could tell he had been fighting with my father. The King’s face was red and stern, with his jaw tight and stiff. He took me in his arms and he held me. It was then he saw the letter I was writing with my goodbyes and the open window. He looked at me and he knew exactly what I had planned, a way to escape, plans of the desperate. 

“Tell me about Aerys. It seems that there is much you are not telling us.” 

For a moment, I thought about being Rhaella the Good, Rhaella the Dutiful and not telling him about the cruelty of Aerys, the broken toys, the pushes, and pinches. However, his purple eyes looked into mine, both the same color. And I told him of it all. 

Aegon V, King of Westeros and my grandfather, took my hand and said he would not allow the marriage to happen. He had smiled and nodded, “We will let Aerys marry someone else and find you a Lord worthy our Princess. “

When my Grandfather told my father, he was furious. Jaehaerys said he would have a septon do it without the King’s permission. It was then my Grandfather looked at him and said, “The boy doesn’t love her. Jae, both you and I were able to marry for love. Wouldn’t you want your children to know the same happiness?”

“But the prophecy, the woods witch and her dragon dreams?”

My Grandfather took a deep breath and put his hand on his son. “I know…. It is hard to think you know what the future holds and to try to push it along. Did I ever tell you of my brother Daeron? He had prophetic dreams and he never understood one of them correctly until it came to pass. The witch says the Prince will come from Aerys and Rhaella line. What if we marry them to different people and marry their children? It would still be their line…”

He pulled his son aside and whispered in his ear a few things. In the end, Aerys and I did not get married. Instead by the second moon’s turn, Aerys got married in the Sept of Baelor to another woman. Someone he felt was better suited for him. Aerys had his choice of all the noble ladies in Westeros but he chose the girl that Tywin, his closest friend had wanted to marry, Joanna Lannister.


	2. Steffon

My Grandfather perked up almost immediately after the feasts were cleared from Aerys and Joanna's wedding. He was excited to go on an adventure across the Seven Kingdoms, a progress across the Seven Kingdoms like Targaryen Kings of Old. Immediately, he sent word to Ormund Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End, his good friend, and good son. 

 

Grandfather seemed as if he was young, he spoke rapidly. “We will make a progress. We will go to all of the Seven Kingdoms and find you a Lord worthy of a princess. We will start with Rhaelle’s boy. We will go to Storm's End. It is the closest and perhaps we could go to Rain House. Maybe even Tarth?. .. What do you say, Ser Duncan? Would you like to see the Sapphire Seas?”

“Perhaps, on the return journey... “

As soon as we were able, we set sail in a ship named the Sea Dragon. On this journey, it was just Grandfather, Ser Duncan, myself and two more members of the Kingsguard. Grandfather was alive with excitement, humming tunes and helping sailors tie knots. Lord Commander Duncan seemed to have much more hesitation, but perhaps it was because he was so much older than my grandfather. However, there was so much excitement emanating from my grandfather it was hard to not be excited and happy on our journey. 

We did not go to Tarth, but as we sailed past it, my grandfather told me the story of his favorite sister and how she had fallen in love with the Lord of Tarth. “Rhae had been a beautiful girl, smart and high-spirited. You look like her and sometimes I must look at you a second time to make sure I am not seeing a ghost. She was beautiful, my sister and she loved me. Really loved me like your father and mother. I did not feel the same way for her. I loved her like my sister. It broke her heart but I feel Galwyn of Tarth healed it in the end.” 

Even as my Grandfather spoke, I felt there was so much more to the story, so much I would never know. 

As we docked in Storm’s End, Ormund and Steffon were there to meet us at the docks. Steffon was tall and big, even at a young age of thirteen. Steffon was strong and brave, loud and full of energy, just like his father. After the Lord of Storm’s End kneeled for my father, Ormund hugged her Grandfather tightly and spoke in a loud booming voice. “It is good to see you. “

“It is always good to come to Storm’s End.” My Grandfather replied.

“We have a feast at the end of the week in your honor and who knows at the end of the fortnight another Baratheon might marry a Princess.” 

“I would be glad to see it.” Grandfather had said.

It was rainy overcast and the most vibrant green I had ever seen as if everything wanted to grow overgrown and wild in the Stormlands. The waves crash against the rocky shore and the sky always seemed gray. Occasionally, the sun would shine through and when it did, the colors seemed brighter and richer than anywhere I had ever been before. The air smelled so clean and fresh. I had lived in King’s Landing for most of my life, but it reminded me of our time in Summerhall.

 

Steffon was full of energy. Every day there was something new to do, archery, riding, walking through the stormwoods. He wanted to take me sailing but Ser Duncan told him no in a resounding voice. She would have thought that Steffon would be given to sadness since his mother had died in childbirth delivering him. His father had not remarried but given his energy to raising his son. 

One morning, I was weary of all the activity. At breakfast, Steffon had spoken, “We could go hunting Bring the dogs.”

Always polite, I smiled, “I would like that very much but perhaps we could go for a walk on the shore. I would like to spend some time with you in private.”

Immediately, his face changed. “Of course. A walk on the shore would be better.” 

Of course, Ser Duncan would not let me go unaccompanied and so he followed us, grumbling about how it would rain. When it started to rain, it was as if the sky was opened. The three of us ran to a nearby tree for shelter. I spoke as lightning raced across the sky. ”It rains so much here.” 

Steffon spoke stepping closer to me, “We don’t let the rain stop us. What is rain? Just water…”

Steffon gently wiped my face with his thumbs and I felt my heart beat fiercely in my chest. He gently took my face in his palm. And as our lips touched, I heard the voice of the Lord Commander, “The princess does not need your help.”

Instead, Ser Duncan wiped her face with a towel he brought like I was a child. I wanted to scream at him but instead, I remained quiet. 

At the end of the week, there was a feast, not as grand as some of the feasts we had at the Red Keep but lovely still. Steffon asked me to dance. He was a good dancer, better than Bonifer, better than Aerys. It was as if we glided as if we fit together. His hands were so big on my waist that he could almost touch them. Dancing with Steffon Baratheon was its own kind of magic. He was big, strong, energetic, and yet he could be gentle and sweet.

 

As he walked me outside on the balcony, I heard Ser Duncan get up to follow but my Grandfather stopped him. The moon was so big it looked like the silver dragons egg I had had since I was a small girl. I wondered if every day would be as magical if I was Lady Baratheon. 

“I could make you happy. I know how Aerys has treated you. He may be my Prince, my cousin, and my friend. But I do not agree with it. I would be kind. I would be true.” Steffon spoke to me, his blue eyes burning.

I believed he could. Steffon was kind and had more courtesy than Aerys or Tywin. Though he loved his cousin, Aerys, he was not given to flights of fancy, Instead, he seemed grounded and steady like the Keep of Storm’s End. She liked that about him. 

“I could make you so happy,” he said. 

I believed him. I kissed him as the moon hung above them watching. Slipping my hands in his, I thought how simple this would be. I pulled away to speak, “I need a piece of your hair for a potion to make you fall in love with me.” 

He laughed and said, as he gave it to me, “You do not need a potion. Rhaella, I am already in love.” 

That night, I drank a sip of the potion and tied his dark black hair around my finger, like it was a ring. I dreamed of the throne room and the silver-haired man waiting for me on the right side at the first window. The silver-haired man spoke, “Welcome, Princess. It is good to see you again.” 

I smiled. “I have come to see the future.”

Pulling back the Baratheon banner, it fluttered to the floor and I watched my future as Lady of Storm’s End. In this future, there was joy and happiness. Steffon was courtly and caring. We were married at the Sept of Baelor. 

I saw a great tragedy tied in with the birth of Aerys and Joanna’s first child at Summerhall. There would be fire and tears at Summerhall. Grandfather, Ser Duncan, Uncle Duncan and Aunt Jenny would all perish. The baby would live. It was a boy and they named him Rhaegar. 

I smiled to see my son, almost the same look, but now he was Joanna’s boy.

I dreamed of a War of the Ninepenny Kings, another Blackfyre hungry for the Iron Throne. The banners would be called to ride out against them. My husband, Steffon. would ride out with his father to put it down. My husband's father would die on the ground in his son’s arms. Steffon would take up his father’s sword.

I saw my first child with Steffon, a son, a huge monster of a boy, as big as Maekar or Aemon the Dragonknight, maybe as big as Maegor himself. Silver-haired and blue-eyed, he looked like Aegon the Conqueror come again. We named him Robert. 

Joanna, not me, in this life, would have to watch her husband parade a series of mistresses and lovers underneath her nose. She would be the one who would suffer the miscarriages and the stillborns. She would wear the bruises and listen to the paranoia growing in her husband.

Quickly, the scenes unfolded. Steffon and I come to King's Landing because Steffon has been ordered to attend the King. It is a great honor. One night, while Steffon is at the docks supervising the building of ships for the Royal Fleet, Aerys comes to her room, slightly drunk. “I think of you, sister, and that kiss you gave me all those years ago.” 

“Aerys, we were children.” I thought to back up and move away from him, but behind me was my bed and I did not want to seem afraid. Aerys liked it when I was scared. It incited him like a wild beast

He touched my face, “Perhaps if you were my wife, my babies would not all wither inside your womb like they do my wife. Perhaps, a lion is not strong enough to hold a dragon.”

Aerys touched the tops of my breasts and pushed the dress down so he could kiss them. 

“Aerys, please stop. My husband will be back soon. You should leave.”

“Your husband is loyal. He will not mind.” 

But we both knew that Steffon would mind a great deal. Aerys pinned me against the bed. Kissing me, he forced my legs open. When he was finished, he kissed me and left. Crying, I swore I would not tell my husband. Who knows what Steffon would do and I would not see him hurt. 

Nine months later, I gave birth to a smaller son with long fingers, silver hair, and intelligent eyes of lavender and silver hair. I knew he was Aerys’ son. Steffon delighted in him and his Targaryen looks and named him, Stannis. Stannis was rigid and single-minded, driven, hard like Maekar or Baelor the blessed, unbending. 

Much later, I had a third son, Renly with dark hair and purple eyes. 

I watched Steffon and myself die in the sea, drowning in a ship.

The scene continued her oldest Robert marrying the wolf girl. Finally, the wolf girl of the North showed up. Her name was Lyanna Stark. It seemed without her blood and Aerys, the pull between Rhaegar and Lyanna was not there. Rhaegar was attracted, but he did not run away with her, not in this world. In this world, where she bore Steffon’s children, Lyanna Stark came to Storm's End to be wed, unhappy and wild as Robert whored around.

They had their first son Joffrey. Stannis, her son with Aerys, was drawn to his brother’s wife and she was drawn to him. When Robert put his hands on Lyanna, it was Stannis who would stop him and help him to bed. On a cruel joke, Robert betrothed Stannis to an ugly, small-hearted girl from the Reach. Even though he was honorable and unbending, what will be will be. The pull her and Aerys’ blood and this wolf girl was too strong. Lyanna and Stannis ended up in bed several times. Deeply in love and broken-hearted with shame, Stannis could not stand the guilt. He joined Rhaegar's small council to get away from his brother. Nine months later, Lyanna had another boy and this time they named him Jon after Robert’s foster father. Jon looked like his mother completely, dark-haired and grey-eyed. 

Stannis’ wife, Selyse, only gave birth to one child that lived, a girl who played with dragon eggs and dreamed of dragon dreams.

This world got misty and unraveled. It was then I first saw a huge immeasurable army of the dead, breaking the Wall and slaughtering the living as they went. Finally, the scene went blank. 

Again, I was weeping but this time not for myself but for all the living. I spoke, my voice raised. “Tell me, Ser, what will happen?” 

“I cannot think it is possible all will be well. In this reality, nothing is as it needs to be. The dragons will not be ready. The dead will win.”

In the morning, I persuaded Grandfather that I thought it was time to go to Dorne. We thanked Lord Baratheon and my cousin and left in the Sea Dragon. 

Once, we were out to sea, Grandfather spoke, “Ahh, the sea air. It is lovely, isn’t it, Ser Duncan?”

Ser Duncan snorted. He did not like the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it took so long to update. I wasn't happy with the first chapter so I rewrote it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy


	3. Doran

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not- Doran is only two years younger than Rhaella!!
> 
> Whoever came up with the Princess of Dorne's name as Dorea first, I used it. It makes sense to me. Thank you.
> 
> I wanted to start to talk about how messed up it would be to know your terrible future and still be unable to change it--
> 
> Anyway, next chapter - the Reach and The Westerlands. I am hoping to get the next chapter out before August ends.. we shall see...

As we sailed on to Dorne, I secretly hoped Dorne to be my better future. It was sunny and warm in Dorne, even when the rest of the Seven Kingdoms were in the heart of Winter. Surely, there was a way to escape the heartache, the death that my future held. Why should a girl be destined for such a life? A dark cloud grew over my thoughts and mood. 

My Grandfather did not notice. He loved being amongst his people and in the world. He ate breakfast and dinner with the Captain and talked to every member of the crew of the Sea Dragon, including the scarred and fat cat, a mouser named Tom. But Ser Duncan noticed. He would stand beside me and smile his grandfatherly smile at me. As we sailed on the second day, he asked me if Lord Ormund’s son had overstepped his courtesy and been hurtful to me someway. I saw the anger in his jaw. I found the energy to force a smile and say that I was fine and I had a touch of melancholy.

He smiled, as he searched my eyes to make sure I was telling him the truth, “Princess, I find Dorne and its heat will burn up any darkness or melancholy.”

As we entered the warmer water, the air grew hot and dry and the sun beat mercilessly on the ship. My handmaiden made sure she brought my parasol every time I was on the ship deck. After all, in a short time, my fair skin would burn in the hot sun of Dorne. The jagged rocky shores with palm trees and all manner of poisonous insects and reptiles seemed an unforgiving place. 

On the deck, I saw the Sandship over the walls of the hazy city of Sunspear and I thought now my journey begins. Now, my tale of adventure starts here in this beautiful exotic city with golden banners, women clothed in scandalous silks, and the rich colors and scents of their marketplace. Anything could be possible and everything was so different in Dorne. My whole short life I had dreamed of coming to Dorne, of the international flair, of their freedoms, of the heat. 

Princess Dorea met us at the gate with her son, Prince Doran. Princess Dorea had a golden dress cut to show the tops of her breasts and tight to show their fullness and so sheer it seemed almost transparent. She wore golden suns weaved into the braids of her long black curls and had henna tattoos up her arms in the images of snakes and intricate suns. Her eyes were outlined with black kohl and looked like a cat’s. She was beautiful and worldly and reeked of mysterious wonder. 

Her son, Prince Doran, was two years younger than me, so he was eleven. Even though, most boys at his age were taller than me since I was short for my age. However, Doran was my height. He was skinny and had a head of messy, dark curls that I was jealous of and he wore his hair to his shoulders. His lashes were so dark that I wondered if he put kohl on them. Even if he was short, skinny and young, his manners were pleasant and when he smiled, it seemed genuine, something foreign in King’s Landing. 

Princess Dorea knelt and kissed the King’s hand. Then she stood and hugged him kissing him on each cheek and once on the lips. My grandfather may have lingered a bit too long with the kiss. My grandmother had passed and it was said he favored dark-haired women with spirit. Princess Dorea laughed when he left her embrace and it was a heady sound, deep and rich, and inviting. “King Aegon, it has been too long since you have come to Dorne. We miss you.”

Princess Dorea came to me next and hugged and kissed both my cheeks with such warmth that I blushed. She spoke cradling my face in her hands and looking into my eyes. “We are glad to welcome another Targaryen princess to Dorne. You are the prettiest thing I have ever seen and so delicate. As Princess Daenerys before you, I am certain you will be enchanted with life here and never leave us. Dorne has much to offer.”

We rode on sand steeds back to the palace through the Three Fold Gate. The people cheered and threw flowers and colored rice. When we arrived at the Palace I was introduced to Doran’s little brother and sister, Prince Oberyn and Princess Elia.

It was hot and the heat glittered over the city like jewels. As I looked out of my room in the Tower of the Sun, I could see all the bustling of the marketplace of the ports. I was fascinated with all the many differences between Sunspear and King’s Landing and I longed to explore. Luckily for me, my Grandfather had shared my spirit of curiosity. There was a knock at the door. Her Grandfather, King Aegon V, and Princess Dorea were arm in arm. Prince Doran was in the doorway, looking at his feet but speaking to her. “The day after tomorrow we will head to the Water Gardens but today the King thought we could go see the bazaar.”

Princess Dorea pushed her son out of the way, “Come Princess... We have much planned. We will enjoy all the pleasures of the city and retire to the water gardens tomorrow and have a party. First, we will go to the bazaar and see what we can find. Your Grandfather is wanting to relive his boyhood and he wants to eat Hot and Sour Eels and walk across the Greenblood in Planky Town. I have told him it is too far but he will not rest. So, we will go to the market and give him a taste of Sunspear and perhaps that will satisfy him for now.” 

The next few days were a blur. We went to the marketplace and wandered. The heat too oppressive to stay outside too long. But I bought a pretty golden dress that my Grandfather said Mother would never let me wear in King’s Landing, a Volantene cyvasse board, and a puppet. Ser Duncan bought it for her. He saw the puppet shop, selling toys with dragons, children of the forests, princesses, griffins, and knights. Rhaella chose a dragon. A tall boy the size of Ser Duncan pulled it from the top of his colored tent, his head surrounded by strings. Ser Duncan seemed to have an air of melancholy about him.

 

That night we had an exotic dinner in the Tower of the Sun, in Rhonyish fashion with rich pillows, seated at a large low table and sitting on the floor, just the Martells and the King’s party. We ate eels in spicy, sour sauce, goat in cucumbers in mint cream, boiled crabs, oysters on ice with horseradish, grapes, pomegranates in honey and sour Dornish red. As I prepared for bed that night, I remember thinking how rich life would be here.

Doran seemed quiet boy, thoughtful and kind. He did not seem to be too interested in horses or fighting. He was unlike most boys I had been around in her life, quiet, thoughtful, deliberate. However, he seemed kind and made sure there was a girl with an umbrella wherever they went under the hot sun. 

We departed for the Water Gardens and the next few days were all relaxing and enjoying the simpler lifestyle at the palace, which was built for relaxation and luxury and reminded me of Summerhall. It was at the Water Gardens I realized that Doran was just a boy and barely had hair on his face When we played in the water, I noticed how little hair he had on his body as if he was the opposite of Steffon who seemed like the epitome of man. I wondered if perhaps the Great Houses married their children too young, as we were barely older than children ourselves.

Secretly, I wondered if I would ever be attracted to him and though I knew he would grow into manhood, would I even like the man he would grow into? 

While we were at the Water Gardens, Princess Dorea held a Masquerade Ball. Masquerades were common feasts held by the nobility in the Free Cities, but I had never been to one in my whole life in Westeros. A Masquerade Ball was where people dressed up as famous characters from history and literature. Since we had not brought costumes, Princess Dorea sent her own servants to help the King and I get ready. I chose to be Princess Nymeria. I had henna tattoos in geometrical patterns and a crown of Rhoynish design and the prettiest dress I had ever worn. 

The Masquerade Ball was well attended with many noble houses from Dorne. When the King arrived dressed as Aegon the Conqueror, Rhaella heard a few grumbles among the applause but when Princess Dorea met him on the dais as Queen Rhaenys, complete with a silver wig made from Lysene hair, everyone laughed and applauded. 

I received many compliments from Lord Dayne, Lord Yronwood, Lord Jordayne, Lord Manwoody and more. I spent the night dancing but Prince Doran did not compliment me once. In fact, he seemed bored most of the night and when I asked if he would like to dance, he blushed and pushed me to dance with another lord. 

 

As the night ended, I knew I needed a kiss and a piece of his hair, however reluctant the heir to Dorne might be. He escorted me back to my room. I wondered where Ser Duncan was and I wondered if he was keeping my Grandfather out of trouble or if he might still be enjoying the Ball. As we drew near my door, I kissed his forehead and thanked him for a lovely evening. He blushed a deep red. I asked, “Doran, perhaps I could have a piece of your hair and a kiss?”  
He looked at me, “Whatever for?”

Smiling in my most beguiling way, I spoke, “For magic..”

He giggled, not believing her but plucked a hair from his head. She kissed him again, this time on the lips, and took it to her room. 

 

In a rush to see the future, I pulled off my dress as quick as I could and pushed the attendants out. With great haste, I drank the potion and woke to the silver-haired man in the great room. 

 

I smiled at him,”My lord, It is good to see you. Perhaps, you will tell me what is your name? Since we are becoming friends...”

“I would not tell you, Princess.”

“What should I call you?”

“I suppose if you need to you could call me, Uncle. Are you ready to see the future? This may be the darkest one yet.”

Not afraid of the future, I pulled the yellow sun and spear away from the window and watched my life unfold as a Martell. 

In this vision, it started with me watching myself see my future. I looked at the thin silver man who wished to be called Uncle reluctantly, questioningly. He spoke, “You are watching yourself now. Seeing the future impacts the future.” 

By the end of the vision, I was weeping and I knew that my future was dark. However excited at the freedom, the mystery, and the exoticness of Dorne, I chose to stay in Dorne and marry Doran. At barely twelve, Doran was married to me at Sunspear. In the beginning, I was happy, even if Doran showed no interest in me. Princess Dorea made up for any slights or lack of attention I may have felt. She was the affectionate mother I never had and their relationship grew into a deep friendship. In this life, she would be friends with his mother in a way she had never been with her mother who was always busy with Aerys and father. 

Doran was still young and did not call her to his chambers, did not take his rights. She did not care much. She had her first real friendship and felt love and laughter and freedom for the first time. However, she would sometimes wake up burning with want from dreams of Steffon’s kisses or even Aerys’, though those dreams would bring deep shame to her.

It was a quiet happy life, the first months of her marriage, even if she had the shadow of her dark future over her life. Then, she saw a great fire at Summerhall. Her Grandfather, Ser Duncan, and so many of her family perished that night. Joanna, Aerys, and their newborn son, Rhaegar, survived. 

Princess Dorea and I went to King’s Landing for the coronation of my father and the mass funeral of my family, including my grandfather. My husband was sick with a fever and could not go. I tried to stay with him but I had to go pay my respects. While I was in King’s Landing for the funeral, Aerys came to my room, “I think of you often sweet sister. I think of the kiss you gave me.”

I spoke coldly to him, “I never think of it.”

Aerys shoves me against my bedpost, “He is barely a boy. I am a man. I could pleasure you. Has he even broken your maidenhead? “

I would not show Aerys my shame and how he spoke the truth. Again, in this world like the first two, Aerys held me down and raped me while a Kingsguard watched my door. It did not take long though every second I wished to be somewhere else. As he left my room, he laughed, “You will never desire your boy now that you have known a dragon.”

Suddenly, I had a light-headed feeling as if the future was turning inside out and my head spun. It seemed regardless of what future I chose I would be subject to Aerys’ cruelty. Also, in the dream window, I had seen the future and somehow this seemed unavoidable. Aerys left me crying on my bed. I felt hopeless because no matter how I tried, I could not seem to change it. 

For the rest of the time King’s Landing, I stuck close to Princess Dorea but I knew almost immediately I was with child and from watching my future, I knew she would be a girl. I knew she would look like our mother and I knew when the time came she would marry Rhaegar because I had seen it all in this window.

I had become good friends with Dorea and I had heard her gossip her bawdy talk with her handmaidens. I knew what must be done. When I return to Sunspear, I got to Doran’s room and knock on his door the first night of my return, “Perhaps, I might sleep here with you. I missed you.”

I kissed him warmly and said wicked things about need and want. I pushed him on the bed and prayed the things I had heard would work and my husband responded. Dorea spoke freely of what men needed and what they liked. Silently, I prayed he was old enough and all would work as it should, though I had already seen this too and knew it would.

 

Our lovemaking was quick and rushed and hurt a bit and Doran never knew. He laid there breathing heavy and wrapped his arms around me whispering sweet things but they all sounded bitter. Bitter because I had seen all this and all the darkness to come and could not get it out of my dreams when I slept.

 

Eight months later, a strong fat girl with deep purple eyes and silver hair was born. Doran was thrilled to be a father and named her Arianne. She was the happiest sweetest girl. As I lay there with my daughter in my arms, I wondered what was choice and what was prophecy. Perhaps destiny was thick like honey and could not be escaped or easily wiped away. It trapped you in a net with its thick sugar, slow moving. 

Whether it was guilt or shame, even after Aerys. I could not conceive, Doran would bed me and I could feel my brother’s hands and treachery. Worse still, I would see the fates of our three children and could not bear to have another. For over a decade, I took moon tea to avoid having other children, destined for murder and horrible deaths.

Doran took me to a Tour of the Free Cities when he was twenty-three. Somewhere in those ancient cities in Essos, I felt safe from destiny and happiness crept in, briefly. In Norvosh, I could not find moon tea and thought perhaps it was all childhood tales and magic tricks. I came back pregnant and happy, certain we could choose our own destiny.

We had Quentyn that year. As I held my infant, I remembered the window. As I showed my daughter her brother, I knew how the baby would die and all I could smell was dragon fire and burning flesh. When he babbled or laughed or cooed, all I could hear was his screaming. I gave him to his nurse and started drinking and trying to avoid Doran completely. 

After a year or two, Doran found a paramour, a Volantene courtesan and I was glad to see him give up on winning my affection. I would not give into the future chosen for me. I would not give birth to three children who would die. I would drink Sour Dornish Red or milk of poppy until I could not hear my baby scream or see my daughter raped and murdered while covered in the blood of her infant son. 

When Arianne was twelve, Aerys sent word that he would like us to come to King’s Landing. He was looking for eligible brides for his son, Rhaegar. I cried and begged Doran not to go. I made myself sick but he would not be deterred. He wanted our daughter to be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. He sent word home that he and the King came to an agreement and our children were betrothed and that he would stay in King’s Landing for a few months while the children got acquainted. I felt hopeless and powerless and drinking helped in its own senseless way. 

Oberyn returned from Essos and found me passed out in the Throne Room when he returned. Over the next few moons, we became closer and even though I had seen this happen, drunkenness and loneliness made for bad decisions. 

 

When Doran returned from King’s Landing, I was pregnant. We slept together once but I always had a sense that he knew that Trystan was not his. He never brought it up and Oberyn never came back to my bed after Doran returned, finding Ellaria soon after. Doran and I spent the next few years, polite and angry. I wanted to tell him the truth of it all, the magic, the dreams, knowing all the pain, but could never find the words to speak it.

 

In 278, a cordial, if slightly cool, marriage was held between Rhaegar and Arianne was held. A year later, Rhaenys was born. Arianne had a difficult time in childbirth but everyone was pleased with Rhaenys and her classic Valyrian beauty. I wrote Arianne and told her to listen to the Maester’s and not try again. She wrote back that a King must have a son. In two years she had her prince, and Aegon was born but Arianne was near death for several months. 

Rhaegar loved his children and spoke to Arianne, “This is the Prince who was Promised. His will be the Song of Ice and Fire.”

She wrote me to tell me about it and I remember seeing him say it when I watched it from the Martell all those years ago and I wrote back to her to come home immediately with her children.

By the time the letter reached her, it was too late. Rhaegar had disappeared with that damned Wolf Girl, Lyanna Stark. He left Arianne and her children alone with Aerys, trapped in his madness and wildfire. Civil war breaks out after the King murders the Starks.

Again, I watched the nightmares I had plagued with for decades come true. I watched my beautiful silver-haired girl raped and killed while she clutched her dead son. I watched my granddaughter, Rhaenys, stabbed over and over again. 

When we received word of their death, the rest of my life was bitterness, watching Doran plot and plan and weave bitterness. The rest of our lives Doran and I drank wormwood and it was bitter.

 

In this dream, I gave up to the plotting, to the revenge, to the bitterness. After all, I knew Quentyn would die in a hail of dragon fire in Essos. I knew Trystan would be murdered by his cousins, who were actually his sisters. 

The Wolf Girl dies in childbirth in her tower and her son is born dead. All is darkness. All is death. Joanna’s girl and her dragons would be nothing against the army of the dead. 

One night, shortly after Arianne’s murder, I threw myself from the Tower of the Spear, drunk and hopeless. I did not have to stay to watch all the pain and suffering unfold. 

 

In the morning, I spoke with Grandfather, saying, “I think Prince Doran is a bit young for me, even if he is lovely. Perhaps, we could continue on and keep looking for another man.”

Grandfather smiled and said, “On to the Reach, we go!”


	4. Tywin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So-- this got long. I promise the fifth chapter will be so much shorter than this one. It got long because I wanted to show Leyton Hightower. While writing this story, I found out Mace is only a little bit older than Rhaegar which blew me away for two reasons, one being Lady Olenna was married for quite a while before she had her only son and two daughters, I guess he seems much older in the show. 
> 
> Then, I struggled with Tywin and Rhaella, especially after she saw all those futures where he hurt people. So the story changed a bit. 
> 
> Of course, I always like stories with Jaime and Lyanna sooo... 
> 
> and I had to add hints of Duncan/Rohanne Webber..

After Sunspear, I grew listless, tired. I lacked the energy to do anything. However, I went about my daily routine on The Sea Dragon. I did not want Grandfather to know of what I had done or what I had seen. Lately, he had begun to grow curious about prophecies and ancient tales of the Second Long Night, as well as more than a passing fancy about how dragons might come back to our world.

I did not know what he would do if he learned of my potion or how it could take me to the place where futures could be seen. Worse still, it seemed each future I saw grew worse and worse the further I pushed myself from King’s Landing. Perhaps, the world’s only salvation had been that I marry Aerys and by being so willful, I had destined the world’s destruction. I wondered if I should go to a Motherhouse and devote myself to the Seven and penance. I knew Grandfather would not allow that. 

We took the Sea Dragon and headed to Oldtown at the mouth of the Honeywine. On the way, we disembarked at Starfall and spent a few days with my Grandfather's sister's children, my cousins. The Lord of Starfall had just had his second child, a little boy named Arthur. There was a magical quality about Starfall and I imagined how a Targaryen princess could find peace and healing here after spending the first part of her life in the Red Keep. I reminded myself that there was no way I could change my mind. Aerys had married Joanna. History had been changed now and I must see if there was any future out there that could be mine that was not a dark and painful thing. We left Starfall too soon but Grandfather would keep ups to our task to find me a groom. 

When towers of Oldtown appeared on the horizon, I have to say that my heart began to race. King’s Landing was the capital of the Seven Kingdoms but Oldtown was the heart and mind of the Seven Kingdoms. It was where both the Citadel and the Starry Sept, the key to all the knowledge both secular and spiritual was kept in Westeros. It was a lighthouse for all knowledge in the darkness of Seven Kingdoms. 

Oldtown was the oldest and largest city in the Seven Kingdoms. What a sight it was with its rising towers of brick and stone and bridges and all the people and houses! I remembered thinking how easy it might be for a girl to disappear in the streets, even a girl with silver hair and purple eyes. I wondered if that would help me escape my misery, but even with the sheltered life of a princess, I knew better. After all, there was more than enough misery out in those streets and it would find me quick enough.

Lord Leyton Hightower met us at the docks with the High Septon as well. He had his young wife with him, a curvy pretty girl only a little older than myself. In her lap, she held a little girl and her stomach was round and it was clear she would be having another child as well. 

Lord Leyton was a very handsome man, young and fit. It was said he had studied at the Citadel and had even his own Maesters and Wise Men from Essos. He wore fine clothes cut in blue brocaded velvet. As soon as we disembarked and the King gave word to rise, Lord Leyton had taken me by the hand and kissed it. “Surely, you are as pretty as any Targaryen princess that has ever been born before you.”

He then smiled at the King, “Your Grace, you should have freed the Princess sooner from her betrothal. I would have gladly taken her. She could have lived in Oldtown, the best city in Westeros. But alas, now it is too late.”

I looked at Lord Leyton and every time he looked at me his eyes burned with a fire that I seemed to fuel. I did not have too much to think of the reason behind his feverish looks because Lord Leyton took us to a huge dais of sorts that had been built right on the docks. There was a special box built for us with velvet seats. As we sat, I saw several Archmaesters sit to the the box nearest to us. Lor Leyton spoke.“Your Grace, we have coordinated a celebration for your visit with a parade on the Honeywine.”

At this, several attendants of House Hightower lifted shiny brass horns and blew a cheerful tune loudly to commence the festivities. 

There was a parade the like I had never seen. Instead of it being on land, it was entirely made of ships sailing down the Honeywine. The parade was made up of barges, boats and fishing ships, each one decorated with colorful banners or painted in a delightful way. Some had music. Some had large paper sculptures built on the prows, of dragons and towers. One ship was covered in Flowers. Even some of the acolytes at the Citadel had gotten in some tiny boats, rowboats, and played music or pretended to joust each other as the big boats sailed around them. 

We spent one night in Oldtown and we were feasted and made merry by the hospitality of House Hightower. In the morning, Lord Hightower took us in his pleasure barges, a long, wide ship with rooms and windows, all along the sides, with colorful flags and canopies with luxurious chairs and games set all along it. It was a large slow moving ship built to travel the Mander in luxury rather than speed, Alicent. For the next week, Lord Leyton escorted us to Highgarden up the Mander. We drifted up the Mander past fields of lavender and grapes orchards of fire plums. The Reach in summer was the most delightful land I have ever seen; rows upon rows of tidy fields bursting with color, happy locals waving from the banks. 

On the first day, Lord Leyton talked about the history of Valyria and the language. “How much do you know about High Valyrian, my Lady?"

"Not much. I mean I was taught to speak it and write it, of course, but that is all."

"Well, original Valyrian was a simple language maybe 5000 words at the most but probably much less. Then, shortly before the dragons were tamed, an idea took root. The idea was that speaking a word was giving power to it, the power of life. It was like a magic. Some say this was due to mages coming to train and harness the magic of dragons and settling among the simple shepherds of Old Valyria. But in the world of Old Valyria, even speaking words were a form of magic."

"I don’t think I understand."

Lord Leyton smiled, “It is a difficult concept but let me try and explain. The prefix Aeg means power, mighty one, strong arm in Old Valyria. So, was Aegon the Conqueror named to rule the Seven Kingdoms or was it just the nature of the man? Was it magic spoken when he was named as an infant that compelled him to do it? Did speaking the name over him bind him to do it?”

I laughed, covering my mouth. It was such a strange fascinating idea. “But my lord, my Grandfather is named Aegon and he is not a conqueror." 

"In a different way, I think he is. He has conquered the hearts of the smallfolk. He was the fourth son of the fourth son and yet he sits on the throne. It would seem unlikely but perhaps even unknowingly, when his parents named him, they spoke his destiny into existence by the magic of speaking the word, of naming."

I sat there for a minute wondering and thinking and then I spoke: “Do you know what Rhaella means?” 

“Well, Rhae is the prefix for sacrifice, sorrow, bitterness. Your name means sorrow, Princess.”

Lord Leyton immediately saw my face fall from his words. “Perhaps, the theory is flawed, my Lady.”

Over the next few days, Lord Leyton must have seen the sadness his words had drawn out in me. On the night before we landed in Highgarden, we ate dinner in splendor under the green and silver canopies of the pleasure barge. The skies were clear and a rich blue and the stars glittered in the warm night. Lord Leyton leaned over and spoke to me, "Despair not, Princess. Have you heard of your namesake the first Rhaella Targaryen, daughter of Prince Aegon, who Maegor slew over the God's Eye?" 

I spoke politely, "Of course, my Lord. She became a septa, known for her piety and her devotion to the Seven."

He smiled and poured me some wine. "It is true the first Rhaella was a devout septa. But there are histories and theories of learned men that Rhaella and her twin, Aerea switched identities at the wedding of their grandmother, Queen Alyssa, and Lord Baratheon. There are accounts that after the wedding their natures were very different. Aerea, who had always been timid and given to tears, became quick-witted and adventurous. Rhaella, who had always been willful and defiant, became pliant and shy. Perhaps, Rhaella decided to take her future in her own hand." 

I spoke quietly, "I have never heard of this story that you speak of, Lord Leyton. What became of Princess Aerea, who may have been Princess Rhaella?" 

He smiled a sad smile and drank his wine, "She flew Balerion the Black Dread and came to an untimely end, too soon. But perhaps, she, at least, chose her fate, chose what her sacrifice would be?"

By the time we reached Highgarden, I had a deep sadness in my heart. However, something about what Lord Leyton said resonated with me. Perhaps, magic and prophecy could be a thing people could use to create their own futures, or to shift them slightly, to have some agency. 

Highgarden was in full celebration. Lady Olenna Tyrell had finally had a son. The boy was named Mace and he was roughly three moons old. However, Highgarden was still in celebration over the heir. It had been whispered that Lady Olenna could not conceive a boy. After all, Lady Olenna was in her thirties and many thought she would never do her job and produce a boy. Secretly, I was glad Lady Olenna had proved them wrong and given birth to a son for the Reach.

Lord Luthor and Lady Olenna were lovely hosts. For the week, we stayed every day was filled with tourneys and every night with feasts. I drank too much and flirted shamelessly like a girl from the Reach or Dorne. It was something I had never done but I enjoyed, dancing with Fossaways, Rowans, Oakheart, Florents, and all the rest. I would dance all night until Ser Duncan would tell me it was time to retire. At bedtime, I would cry in my pillow silent angry tears,

We could not stay for long. The heir to Highgarden was still an infant and Lord Tytos Lannister was waiting for his turn to host the King and win the Princess for his son, Tywin. There was no reason to tarry at a place when a prospective groom was waiting somewhere else. I was dreading Casterly Rock of all the places on our journey, even though I had known Tywin Lannister for most of my life. I had seen Tywin’s silent rage at Aerys’ marriage to Lady Joanna. When Tywin looked at me, it was as if he were appraising a cow or a horse, looking at her worth and her ability to advance him in the world. 

On the day we left, Lady Olenna Tyrell caught me in the garden. 

I spoke quickly, “Excuse me, my lady. I did not mean to interrupt you.”

“No need to apologize. The gardens at Highgarden are big enough for both of us to get lost for several hours. But I must get back to my children and you depart today, Princess.” 

“I know…”

“You sound sad. Why are you sad? You are the most sought out bride in all of Westeros.” 

“Lady Tyrell, you were betrothed to my Uncle. It is said you changed your mind. May I ask why? I mean he was a Targaryen, a prince and second in line to the throne.”

I looked at her. She was pretty still, her skin was still smooth and bright, her lips full, and her eyes were full of humor and intelligence. I wonder at the world where she would have been my Aunt and what a force she would have been with Targaryen as her name.

“Princess Rhaella, life is long and hard. Love shouldn’t be hard. Women have too few joys in our lives, even highborn ladies like ourselves. Daeron was handsome and courtly but his interests lay in other things besides me. Luthor may be a fool who likes falcon and horses, but he loves me and he knows more than a few tricks in the bedroom. Sometimes, there is more than a crown.”

At this, I burst into tears. Tears seemed to be too much for the Lady of Highgarden, “Good Gods! Please stop, before the men come running."

She handed me her handkerchief and helped me fix my hair. “Surely it is not as bad as all that. Remember you are a dragon. Princess, be a dragon. Dragons do not cry in gardens. They take what they want.”

She took me by the arm and led me to the docks where we took the Alicent to the sea where we boarded the Sea Dragon, heading to Casterly Rock.

For the rest of the journey by sea, I thought of what Lady Olenna had said how I should be a dragon and how there was more to life than a crown and power, that there were happiness and love. 

When we arrived at Casterly Rock, Lord Tytos Lannister, the Laughing Lion, met us with his sons, Tywin, Kevan, Tygett, and Jason. Lord Tarbeck and his wife, Lady Ellyn was there as was her brother Lord Robert Reyne. Lord Tytos looked a bit like an old lion, with his drooping grey moustache but he was all smiles and generosity. 

Tywin stepped forward to kiss my hand. He was a striking figure, golden, tall, handsome. As his lips brushed my hand, I thought how his coolness mixed with his beauty made him less desirable, as if he was too cold, unreal like a statue. As he kissed my hand, I felt a chill. For all his father's smiles, Tywin scowled. For all his father’s laughter, Tywin was stern. 

The greeting at Casterly Rock was more subdued. There were no parades, no fireworks, no elephants or colorful boats. Lord Tytos seemed glad to see the King. The King had long called Lord Tytos a friend. Lord Tytos spoke as he walked with the King, “Your Grace, we will have a feast later but I was so glad to see you again, I thought to keep it small. It is better for conversation.”

At dinner, Lord Tytos and King Aegon would talk about the struggles of the smallfolk and how it was the ruler's role to protect and provide for them, protect them, guide them. My Grandfather even made mention of the smallfolk having more power, a voice to the King. Perhaps, a member of his Small Council chosen from the small folk. 

At this comment, Tywin spoke, “Perhaps, or perhaps it is their place. The Seven has assigned them to work, to be ruled. If the King was picked to rule above all men by the Seven, the Seven have picked the small folk to be ruled. Lesser men to be ruled by great men, stronger, better, decreed by the Gods. It is the natural order of things.”

When Tywin spoke, he looked at me. His eyes were burning but it was not out of desire. It was due to greed. I looked like a pile of gold or sheep and he was counting. I did not want to be a number and wondered if he plotted in his sleep. 

I found the company tiresome. Politely, I stood and excused myself to retire. As I walked with a guard, down the cavernous halls of Casterly Rock, I heard footsteps. Turning I saw, Lord Tywin. He spoke, I did not mean to offend. Do you think I am so wrong, my lady, that you needed to leave dinner?”

“I am not offended. I think many would agree with you. Does it matter what I think about it?”

Tywin looked at her and she could see him thinking on her words. “I suppose it does not matter but I did not want to offend you. “

“Lord Tywin, I am tired. This traveling has taken a great deal of energy.”

I could see him struggling to try and think of what to say to me. It seemed that Tywin Lannister had set his eyes on winning my hand. For a moment, I thought about kissing him in the hallway and drinking the potion, just to find out what the future held for us. But I was too tired. 

On the next morning, I went to the gardens. I found Ser Duncan, the Lord Commander sitting on a bench in front of a statue. The statue was of a small slim woman with a long braid on her shoulder and prayer beads in her hand. At the base of the statue was carved, Lady Rohanne Lannister, Lady of the Rock.

I sat down on the bench. Ser Duncan smiled at me gently.

“This Lady Rohanne seems beautiful.”

Ser Duncan lingered “Rohanne needed a bow, not prayer beads, but they got the braid correct.”

“Did you know her, Ser?” 

“Once long before she was a Lannister. I knew Rohanne Webber.”

His voice was rich with feeling. I went to take his hand and ask him what the story was. However, we were interrupted by a coughing. Both of us turned to see Tywin Lannister behind us. Tywin cleared his throat and I noticed Ser Duncan looked down. It was unlike him. His cheeks had color. 

Suddenly, I resented Tywin and wanted him to leave so I could hear the story. Tywin barely seemed to notice but I had. Lord Tywin asked, “Would you like to come to see my father’s lions?”

Looking at the Lord Commander, it seemed very unlikely that he would tell me anything. 

I spoke, “That would be nice.” 

As Lord Tywin took my arm, the Lord Commander released me quickly, so quickly, as if he felt he was caught with something that was not his.

 

We went to the cages. There were four lions, purring lazily in cages, against the bars, enjoying the sun. At first, I was hesitant but Tywin took my hand, “I will not let anything hurt you, Princess.”

He took me to the bars. Taking my hand, he placed it against the bars. The lions purring may the bars reverberate. I looked up at him. Tywin was so tall, looking down at me, intently. The feeling of lions purring like house cats was its own magic. 

I spoke with a broad smile, “They are wonderful... your father's lions.”

At this, I laughed and he laughed with me. For the first time I had known Tywin Lannister, I heard the sound of his laugh. It was a warm sound. 

Suddenly, I kissed him. He gathered me in his arms and I felt the heat of a kiss. As we kissed, I could feel the self-satisfaction in his kiss. Tywin Lannister felt that he had won me by not trying to outdo anyone. I do not know why I had kissed him but I had a feeling of trying to get something unpleasant over quickly. Even as we kissed, all I could think of him ordering my daughter, Arianne’s death and her children. I could not think about anything else. This was the monster who killed the infant prince and the child princess, the man who killed Princess Elia or my daughter, Princess Arianne. 

I pulled away from him, taking a golden hair from his vest carelessly. He spoke, my face in his hands, “We would be very very good together. We could do well together for the Targaryens and the Lannisters. You belong on the Rock. I could keep you safe.”

I wondered if Tywin believed the words he spoke but as he spoke, I could feel the tears fall in a stream down my cheeks. Tywin must have thought I was crying with joy because he continued. ”Aerys will never hurt you again and you will never cry again.” 

 

I thought to myself that Tywin was making promises he could not keep. I could not stop seeing the other futures we had had. He was the man who murdered my beautiful girl Arianne and her babies. What monster lay beneath his golden surface? I wondered what I had done. Now, I had the competing memories of three lifetimes. How would I be able to do this another time? How could I survive knowing all the futures? 

“It will be my job to see you happy,” Tywin spoke as he wiped my eyes with his thumbs. He kissed me again and this time my body recoiled. I pulled myself from his arms and fled to my rooms. I tied the string around my finger and drank the potion. I was crying when I drank the potion. I only took a sip, the smallest amount. There would be enough for one more dream. However, the sorrow and pain I had seen the first three times, I did not think I could bear to watch any more. 

I woke as always to this dream world with the silver-haired man in the Great Hall. There were the seven windows, three dark, several left; a grey wolf of Starks, a silver fish for Tully. Directly in front of me was a window with the curtain of red and the golden lion of House Lannisters. 

I looked at him. “Uncle, show me more tragedy. I am ready for my heart to ache.” 

He smiled. “Princess. I believe you are stronger than you believe.”

I looked at him, this strange guide who was somehow familiar, “Do you know what lies beyond this sheet?” 

“I would not say if I did.”

I smiled at this man, his face unreadable but he seemed kind. I looked across the empty hall. There was still a cover of House Tully, House Stark, House Arryn, and others. I asked, “Do you know what lies behind those?”

He smiled but he did not say a word.

 

Trembling, I pulled the curtain away and watched the events. After all, I was a dragon. I could face any future. Already, I had seen my children murdered and Aerys’ grandchildren murdered by this man. I saw my marriage to Tywin. We were married at the Sept of Baelor for King Aegon V wanted everyone to see that he loved his granddaughter and thought the young Tywin Lannister was a fine young lord and a good match. Our marriage bed was cool. I could hardly bear my husband ’s touch. I drank a great deal of wine to get through the nights. Luckily, Tywin did not seem too interested in my bed.

As soon as we were married, we went on a tour of the Westerlands. We were in Casterly Rock when we heard word of the tragedy at Summerhall. When we arrived in King’s Landing, my father was glad to see us, King Jaehaerys II. Tywin joined the King’s Small Council as the Master of the Coin and it was said who better to tend to the gold but a Lannister.

My husband and Prince Aerys left for the Ninepenny War and I was left with my mother and father. They returned victoriously. When Aerys returned, he was much more gentle. My brother was a braggart and a dreamer, given to wild flights of fancy. I could not see him as a bully of my childhood. Instead, all I could see was an old man, unkempt and tortured by madness and dark dreams. I could see he loved Joanna. I also could see his other mistresses and how he was kind and charming to them as well. In a world where I did not openly despise my brother, he was kinder to me. It was he who noticed Tywin’s disregard for me except once a month. It was Aerys who saw I drank too much on that particular night. He approached me one night. It was after Tywin had left to return to Casterly Rock. He had tired of his father’s lords taking advantage of his kindness. Aerys had offered me kindness. He told me of his wild dreams to build another Wall further North and settle the land, to conquer the Stepstones and bring them under the Iron Throne, to build a better more efficient capital city. He even proposed putting me on his Small Council.

Somehow, as the days passed, Aerys and I developed a friendship that we had never had. When we received word of the Reyne-Tarbeck Rebellion and how Lord Tywin killed every man, woman, and child that his in Castamere or how he threw the only grandson of Lord Tarbeck down a well after he was stabbed over fifty times, it was Aerys who tried to comfort me. “It is not as bad as all that we hear. It is mostly gossip.” But even as he spoke, I knew he was lying. 

 

At the feast of Tywin’s victorious return, I heard the stories and looked in Tywin’s face and saw the truth of it. He was still the monster who would kill Elia. He would do anything to move something out of his way. At one point, Tywin leaned over and kissed me, “I missed you, my lady. Tonight I will visit you. Perhaps we will make an heir for Casterly Rock.”

I smiled but inside, I felt sick. Instead, while Tywin, my husband, was talking to some lord about how he tore the walls of Tarbeck hall down with a trebuchet, I excused myself. I looked at Aerys. I had noticed even though he was kinder to me in this place. He still lusted after me. I winked at him and made a subtle motion to follow me. In less than five minutes, we had found one of the secret rooms throughout the red keep. With the quickness of a tavern wench, he and I were kissing and we made love on the dusty chair that was the only piece of furniture in this dark secret room, twice. Breathless, he kissed me and I kissed him back. 

That night, when Tywin came to my room, I thought to myself how he fucked me and I was full of my brother’s seed. I wondered if he could see the marks from Aerys’ mouth that he had left on my body. As soon as Tywin was finished, he fell asleep. 

I found out I was pregnant. I spent nine months wondering if the child would come out with silver hair or golden, green eyes or violet. When the time came, I had twins; Cersei and Jaime. Cersei was first, green-eyed and golden fuzz all over her head. Jaime, my son came next. He was born with silver hair and purple-eyed like my father. I knew immediately that my daughter was Tywin’s and my son I would never know if he was Tywin's or Aerys. Aerys was as happy as Tywin was, as if he knew, and swore Jaime would be Prince Rhaegar’s closest companion.

My husband was ruthless and cruel but not to me, never to me. However, Tywin saw the way the King looked at me and Jaime. The Queen had been having difficulty in having another healthy baby. Tywin sent me to Casterly Rock with the twins 

My life was quiet and simple. It was a sweet life, caring for a keep, my people, and my children. I loved my daughter and my son with all of my heart, regardless of their father. In 264, King Aerys II and his Hand, my husband, Tywin, came to visit the Rock. This time, I tried to resist my hatred for my husband, tried to resist the pull to my brother, tried to be a good dutiful bride. In the end, while Tywin was going over the books, I took my brother to bed in my husband's bed. When he made me cry out with pleasure, I cried and Aerys kissed them away. He whispered words, “I will make Tywin put you aside. I will have two wives like Aegon the First. You will be my Rhaenys, my love, my beautiful sister.”

Like all of Aerys’ ideas, he moved on quickly to another just as fast as he settled on one. Nine months later, a silver-haired, lavender-eyed daughter was born. I named her Rohanne after the girl that made Ser Duncan smile so wistfully in the garden all those years before. 

Not all our children had such questionable parentage. In 269, we had a son, Lance who was as golden as a Lannister, as golden as Cersei. In 273, I died too soon when our fifth child was born, Tyrion. He was a small, twisted thing, a dwarf. As I died, I made Tywin promised to care for him. 

As time passed, Jaime was the closest companion of the Prince. They were close as brothers and with their silver hair and fine features, they could pass for brothers. Rhaegar was a bit sad, haunted by dreams and prophecy. Jaime was all my Grandfather. He was full of energy, passion, and a sense of duty and being just. Even as I watched from the window, I cried knowing I would not be there to help my children in the upcoming years.

Like time and time before, Tywin proposed a match between Rhaegar and Cersei. Aerys refused. King Aerys did not want to let Tywin have so much power. He was distrustful, haunted by nightmares in his waking hours. Instead, as in times past, King Aerys II settled on a Princess in Dorne. 

At the Tourney of Harrenhal, Jaime brought his petition to be a member of the Kingsguard but when the King looked at him, he saw his own son and he refused his request, gently saying he would not take his Hand’s heir to the Kingsguard. Instead, he nominated a Horpe. Aerys was uncertain of many things but when he looked at Jaime, he saw his Uncle Daeron and his Grandfather.

Of course, it was at the Tourney of Harrenhal where Lyanna Stark, daughter of the Lord of Winterfell and betrothed to Lord Baratheon, dressed as the Knight of the Laughing Tree. However, this time, Jaime and Rhaegar both went into the godswood to find her. This time, it was Jaime who fell in love. This time, it was Jaime, not Rhaegar, who crowned Lyanna as the Queen of Love and Beauty. 

In this world, Tywin remained the Hand and shortly after the Tourney, King Aerys was taken with a sudden illness of the mind and was put on bed rest until he was recovered. Prince Rhaegar took over ruling for him. 

When Lyanna ran away with Jaime on the way to Riverrun, Lord Robert Baratheon and Lord Rickard Stark both appealed to the Prince. The Prince called for Lady Lyanna and Lord Jaime to come to the Red Keep. It seemed all would be lost and war would break out but as Tywin was the Hand, He struck a deal with House Baratheon that Robert Baratheon would marry Cersei and Lysa Tully could marry Lance.

Lady Lyanna Stark Lannister, newly wedded and bedded, and spoke privately to her father and the King to tell them she was neither forced nor coerced. In fact, all could see how she looked at Jaime Lannister and she seemed wildly in love. 

In this world, Lyanna had a boy, a healthy dark-haired boy named, Jason in a relatively easy birth. In the next ten years, she had three more boys. 

No burnings. No rebellion. 

Aerys died soon after in a tower and Rhaegar was King. Elia died trying to have a third child and Rhaegar married Rohanne. They had twins, Visenya and Jaehaerys.

In this peaceful world, there would be no dragons, but a House full of Targaryens. There would be no bastards sent to the Wall. There would be no bloodshed. Yet, the army of the undead would wipe them all out. If they did not have dragons and hardship, there would be no way they would be prepared. In the world where all was well and there was no sorrow, no sacrifice, the whole world would end in ice and death. 

 

“Why, Uncle?” I asked the man.

He looked at me, “In Old Valyria, the prefix Rhae meant sorrow and pain, sacrifice and strength. It was a verb, an action, not as a noun. The Princess needs to act or she will be acted upon. Perhaps, this is not about finding a future without pain but choosing what would benefit the most?”

“If that was the case, I should have chosen my brother.”

“I cannot answer that, Princess. You have one more future to see.” 

I spent the next week, avoiding Tywin. When we left Casterly Rock on the Goldroad, I was lost in my thoughts about how I would solve this problem. Perhaps, I had already ruined all the futures. Perhaps, there was still hope.


	5. Brynden

Now, in the middle of my adventure, I found love. I was not expecting it so soon. Hope came to me on a black destrier. Hope, like all heartbreaking things, rode up on me unaware. I would tell you of the love that I found on the banks of the Tumblestones. I would like to tell you it ended happily but I would speak to you truthfully. I have spoken the truth thus far and I will see it to the end. 

It is hard for me to speak it because you may think of me differently and I have never spoken of him to anyone, except once but I didn’t even begin to mention what he meant to me. However, you have stayed with me until now, so I will tell you of him. He is my secret that I locked away in my heart. Even as I tell the story, I wonder if I am willing to share him with you. As I sit here in a castle by the sea with my newborn daughter in my arms, I think I have the courage to tell you the truth. After all, I do not know who will come for me and my children or what their intentions will be. I have no idea, so I will speak the truth.

Remember I was a girl of fourteen and I only spent a fortnight in his company. Of those fourteen days, I only spent three nights with him. Since then, I have been married and I loved my husband and known the joys of a marriage bed. However, I still think of this knight sometimes in the dark or when I am feeling nostalgic or melancholy. We made promises and swore to love each other for all our days. Sometimes, I wonder why even after being happy and loving my husband, I still think of him. Perhaps, youth and a young heart do have the strength and intensity to hold such bonds. 

As we rode up to Riverrun, we saw the tents and the stands that Lord Hubert Tully had erected for his King’s entertainment. It seemed that Lord Tully also thought to hold a tourney and a feast. The banners of Tully, Piper, Bracken, Blackwood, Frey, Smallwood, Darry, Vance, and Whent were all visible blowing in the breeze on the green fields outside Riverrun. There were others banners, as well, but too many to name them all. When the people saw us crest the hill, cheers rang out. My Grandfather smiled and Lord Hubert Tully’s steward met us on a fine steed and led us into Riverrun. 

In the yard, there were four knights practicing for the tourney. My Grandfather and Ser Duncan stopped to watch them spar. One knight was in black armor with a silver trout enameled on his armor. This knight in black fought bravely. He was tall and strong, moving with a grace not often seen, as if his sword was a piece of his body. When the other three opponents were on the ground defeated, the knight took off his helmet. Long red hair spilled from his helmet, the knight laughed and joked with the other knights as he helped them off the ground. 

My heart almost leaped from my chest. I remembered thinking this was the man I would marry, the love of my life. I leaned over to Ser Duncan, “This must be Lord Hoster Tully, Lord Hubert’s eldest son and heir to Riverrun?”

As I watched him, I felt my heart race. Here was a young knight who might be worthy to win the hand of a princess, long and lean, skilled and dangerous. I felt my face flush as I imagined his hands on my hips pulling me in for a kiss. I looked again at the knight and this time he was looking straight at me, his blue eyes burning into mine. Blushing, I looked away, wondering if he looked at me so intensely because he knew what my thoughts were. 

Ser Duncan leaned over to speak to me, “ Princess, it is Lord Tully's younger son, Brynden.”

So it began. Again, I fell in love with a knight, brave and true, as bold as the Warrior and as skilled, but not worthy for the hand of the only Princess of House Targaryen. I felt my heart sink, at the fact, he was but a second son. However, perhaps his older brother would be as fine and dashing a figure and I would love him much more.

As they assembled in the yard to meet us, I met Lord Hubert Tully, a stout man, barrel-chested and slightly bowed legged, and his heir, Hoster. Hoster was a shorter and smaller version of his brother. His hair was thin at the top and he kept it short, unlike his brother's long thick mane. His jaw square and his blue eyes were deep set. He was a pale copy of his younger brother. Hoster was handsome enough, but next to his brother I could find no trait to charm me from Brynden. 

When Brynden bowed and kissed my hand, I felt lost. All the stories I had heard of Mother and Father, Aunt Jenny and Uncle Duncan, or even my Grandfather and Grandmother, were of knowing in an instant that you loved this one person like a thunderclap, sudden and surprising. I was certain, as any fourteen-year-old can be, that Brynden Tully would be my one and only love.

 

Of course, Lord Hoster was seated by my side throughout the feast that night. He was well-intentioned and a gracious host. However, I could not help but look at his brother all night. I watched Brynden eat, tearing bread into small pieces for the gravy and I wondered what it might feel to kiss him. Hoster danced with me three times that night, a fine dancer and full of smiles, but I could not feel anything but the resentment that he must occupy my time when I longed for his brother’s attention.

As if he could hear my thoughts, Brynden was there, asking me to dance. I laughed gently demurely but I nodded in assent and I could feel my face redden as he took me from his brother. When he pulled me near on the dance floor, I swear I could feel his heartbeat, as if we were connected. Every place he touched I tried to remember how it felt. I memorized his blue eyes, his long but broken nose, his cheekbones high, his strong jaw, the way his long red hair was tied back with a blue ribbon. 

When the song was finished, I leaned in close to him, speaking, “I have a request, my Lord.”

“Anything, my Lady?”

“Another dance?”

He laughed and took me for another dance and another.

 

That night, I touched myself under my covers and I thought of Brynden Tully. Breathless, I called his name, dreaming that it was him touching me, imagining him kissing me.

The following day, before the tourney began, Targaryen banners were seen in the distance and Uncle Duncan and Aunt Jenny arrived with a small company. Their faces were eager and their news seemed urgent. Lord Hubert was a gracious host and invited them in. Perhaps, I should have been curious why they came with parchment and the witch woman, Mab. Perhaps, I should have listened to their arguments and their whispers. However, I was just a girl and I was in love and I paid no attention to their meetings. Instead, I used their distraction to my advantage and I would seek out Brynden’s company.

When I would return to them, I would find my Grandfather arguing or whispering to his son or the Lord Commander. Something had happened or changed and Ser Duncan was angry. I could not understand why but I did not care too much. After all, I had my own distraction. 

At first, Brynden was hesitant, shy, and chivalrous. However, I played all my chams and games that I had seen the ladies at court play and slowly, I could see him warm to my smiles and seek out my affection. On the second day of the Tourney, he asked if he could wear my favor. Gladly I tied my ribbon on his arm. Aunt Jenny laughed and hugged me, teasing me gently that I had found love, but Grandfather paid little attention. Lord Brynden won and crowned me Queen of Love and Beauty. 

I remember that sunny day when the crowd cheered as Brynden Tully handed me the wreath of summer flowers, He had taken his helmet off and he was smiling. Briefly, I looked at his brother, Hoster and I saw the anger in his face. 

The next day, I heard Grandfather arguing with Ser Duncan. I had never heard them argue with such raised voices. Hesitantly, I knocked on the door. I heard my Grandfather’s voice, “Come in.”

 

Walking in the room, I could see I had interrupted but I would need my courage. “Grandfather, excuse me. I do not mean to interrupt. I can come back later.”

“No, Gods, please stay. I need a break from this stubborn knight.”

I smiled sweetly. “Grandfather, I did it. I have made a decision on who I would marry... I think I would like to marry Brynden Tully.”

I suppose I expected his smile, his joy, his approval. Instead, his face darkened. He spoke in a tone I had not heard him ever use when he spoke to me, “Does this boy know you are here asking to marry him? Did he send you here?"

 

Suddenly, I realized this was not a good time and Grandfather was angry at me. I hesitated, “No.. he does not know. He does not even know my desires. I am sorry. I expected you to be happy.”

 

“Happy? Why would I be happy? He is a second son. He has nothing to offer you. I have two heirs now, you and your brother. Princesses do not marry second sons. Princesses do not get to choose who they marry. You are a foolish girl. I am a fool. I have raised fools, all of them!!. No! You will not marry Brynden Tully. I will bring you back to King’s Landing and marry you to Tywin or Steffon. At least, they are the heirs to their land. They will have a keep and money to keep you well fed. What can Brynden do? No! No. Pack your things. I was a fool to do this anyway. I should have let Jaehaerys marry you to your brother.”

I was struck speechless by his words. Quickly I started crying. Desperate for any plan or any delay, I fell to my knees. “Please, Grandfather. I am sorry. Please, please let us at least finish the journey. Let us go to Winterfell. Then, we can go to King’s Landing and I will marry anyone you wish. I was being foolish and silly. I am sorry. Please.”

He looked at me on the ground as if I was a traitor. For the first time in my life, I saw a coldness in his eyes, a darkness. Aegon V motioned to Ser Duncan to help me up. My Grandfather looked at a scroll and drank some wine. I stood there unsure and uncomfortable. Finally, the King spoke, “Get your ladies to pack your things Rhaella. We depart at the end of the week. We are returning to King’s Landing. We need to prepare things at Summerhall for the birth of my great-grandchild.”

Ser Duncan spoke, handing me a handkerchief, “Your Grace, there is still time. Surely we can go to Winterfell and see the Stark boy. A boat from White Harbor to the capitol takes two weeks. There will be time for any preparations you may need. For the Princess. She has wanted to see the North. This might be her only chance.”

As if a veil was lifted, my Grandfather’s eyes changed and he saw me crying. Suddenly, he looked like my Grandfather again and that angry stranger was gone. “I suppose we could get to Winterfell and still have time. But no more talk of Brynden Tully. Please. Now go, Rhaella, please. I am tired and there is much to do.”

 

As soon as I left my Grandfather’s rooms, I ran to the godswood. I would use the tool of the desperate, prayer. I could not pray for disobedience in a sept, so I went to the godswood. Perhaps, the Old Gods would listen to disobedience and grant it. As soon as I stepped near the heart’s tree, I knew this was a place of old magic. The ground seemed to sing to me. The weirwood tree with its sad face called to me. I fell to the earth and touched the old white trunk with my hands. I felt a strange energy course through my body as if my whole body tingled, as if the magic within me was calling to this place. 

Silently, as tears flowed down my face, I prayed that Brynden Tully be mine for always, that he always love me and never love another. 

Mab caught me near the tree Like a gnome from the stories, she emerged with no sound. Grabbing my arm, she hissed at me, the albino dwarf, “Princess you should have married your brother. You have ruined the world. There will be no prince that was promised no fire to stand against the ice. All is death. You have seen the future and you know” 

I tried to pull my arm from her grasp. “No, there is another way. Not all ways lead to death. You said I had a choice. You said there was always a choice. Uncle says there is a choice…”

“True, I did say that, but you are a selfish, spoiled child like your brother. What is your happiness against the future of the world? You chose your happiness. I see you and I know what you will choose. I can already see what you will do. Stupid girl!” 

“Stop it. Let go, you hateful witch! Let go!” 

With the nimbleness of someone younger, she pulled a dagger from her pocket. Mab sliced my finger, licking it as if my blood was savory. “There is only one more way. The Pact of Ice and Fire. You are Fire. He is Ice.”

But I did not want to hear her, With a powerful pull, I wrenched my arm from her grasp and ran, calling out behind me, “Let the world burn. I will love.” 

I would only marry one man and that would be Brynden Tully. I ran from the godswood. Looking behind me, afraid that she was chasing me, I ran directly into the arms of Brynden.

Looking worriedly behind me, Brynden spoke: ”What do you run from?” 

I bit back the words, my future. “Nothing” I said. 

I spent the next hour walking in the garden with Brynden. Something even stranger happened later that day. The Lord Commander, Ser Duncan the Tall, came down with a terrible illness. He had a fever, shakes, and stomach pains. Quickly, he was put to bed. My Grandfather spent the night at his bedside. I had never seen Ser Duncan ill before. He had a hardy constitution. When others would have a cold or a stomach bug, the old knight never came down with anything. 

For one day, my Grandfather sat by his bedside, while the Maester at Riverrun tried to figure out what was wrong. At first, I sat with him as he kept watch over his oldest and dearest friend. But then I noticed, the baggage train was being packed. 

Gently, I asked stepping away from the window, “Are we leaving, Grandfather?”

He spoke holding Ser Duncan’s hand, “I am leaving with your Uncle Duncan and his party. You will stay here with Ser Duncan. When he is well, he will escort you to Winterfell. I have reached out to the Knights of the Vale to help escort you.” 

Shocked by his words, I questioned him, “Where are you going, Grandfather? You are leaving us..”

The King looked at me and for the second time in a few days, I saw that anger in his eyes. “You will be fine. You will see Duncan will make a speedy recovery. Remind him that it is my wish he escorts you to Winterfell. When you return, perhaps we can find you a suitable husband. Who knows, maybe a husband and a dragon? Jon Arryn’s second wife has been dead three years. He would be a good match for you. The Eyrie is a good place for a dragon. I must go. You will be fine. You will see. Ser Duncan will recover. I am certain. Keep to the plan. Go to Winterfell. I love you Rhaella. You will have a fine dragon soon enough. I have seen it. In the prophecy. In the fire and flames.”

 

I felt a chill wondering if my Grandfather had lost his mind. Laughing in a distracted way, he hugged and kissed me and fled the room. Silently, I sat down by Ser Duncan’s bed. The old knight seemed feverish and moaned softly. I would never think Grandfather would abandon his best friend when he was so ill. What was so important that he must leave know? Joanna had at least three more moons before her lying in. What was all this talk of dragons? Had Grandfather lost his mind? Was this the witch’s work? Had she given him a potion? Perhaps, it was poison.

Gently, I took the Lord Commander’s hand in mine, Whispering so only Ser Duncan could hear, I repeated myself, “Surely, he cannot leave us. The Lord Commander is unwell.”

I must have sat there for an hour. In the yard, I heard the King and my Uncles saying their rushed goodbyes and leaving me behind with Ser Duncan. Finally, a maid came to find me and tell me that dinner would be soon and I should ready myself. I looked at the Lord Commander, looking so pale and old in his bed and did not want to leave him alone in this strange place. The Maester looked at me gently, “My Lady, you should go. I think the Lord Commander’s fever is breaking. By tomorrow morning, I do not think he will have a fever at all. You need to eat. Go. He will be well.”

As I walked from that room, I knew one thing. I did not want a dragon. I did not want the Eyrie or Winterfell. I wanted a fish. I dreamed myself the wife of Brynden Tully, steward of Riverrun. It was a small life, a simple life, but it was the future I wanted. The Maester was right and by morning, Ser Duncan’s fever was broken. By then, I was a ruined girl. 

 

After dinner, I stated I would return to my rooms. I made my ladies promise their secrecy and thier loyalty. Impulsive and determined, I took a flagon of sour Dornish wine and snuck out and went to hide in Brynden Tully’s rooms, waiting for him. Each step I took toward his rooms, I thought I will write my own destiny and it begins today. I do not have a fixed course like a cog in a wheel. I am a Targaryen and I can rewrite my destiny. Mab told me my blood was what mattered my dreams my strength. I can break the wheel. 

 

I waited several hours until the flagon was empty. Brynden arrived slightly drunk as he had been playing dice in the hall. I stood and wrapped my arms around him but he was too tall and I could not kiss him. “Princess,” he said.

“Kiss me, Brynden, or I will die.”

Dutiful and trembling with desire, he leaned over me and kissed me sweetly. I felt my legs weaken and my heart ache. His lips were soft and sweet. 

Pulling away gently, he smiled at me but his face was serious. “My Princess, you should go back to your room.”

Emboldened by his kiss, I spoke shamelessly, “I would rather stay here with you tonight.”

“I cannot. We are not wed,”

“No, but perhaps, this is the way to secure it. I would rather be your bride, ruined, then anyone else’s maiden bride. Brynden, you are my heart’s desire. ” 

 

I kissed him on tiptoe and thought about my Grandfather’s anger. For a second, I thought I should tell him that we could never be married. Then, I remembered if I carried his child, they would not refuse my wish. Perhaps, that was why I came here to his room. 

 

I do not know what Brynden thought. I never asked and I never learned. He pulled me to him and he kissed my neck. “Rhaella, you are my heart’s desire, as well.”

He kissed me and touched me until I was wild against his hands. Every time I touched him, his touch burned me. I was an aching mess. I remember less than I should of those nights. Perhaps, I was too focused on never forgetting to actually remember. I remember the shape of his hands and his long fingers as he gently took my dress off and laid me in his bed. I remember his muscles along his chest, his back, and arms against my fingers as I pressed them against him, trying to remember every maddening second. The feel of his tongue against my flesh how it was warm and wet and I imagined it like wildfire, setting me aflame.

As he entered me, Brynden spoke my name in a heated whisper, “Rhaella.” 

His long red hair fell across my face and his eyes were all flame and wonder. Brynden was sixteen. 

 

“Look at me,” I said bold when I had never been so bold before. Perhaps desperation can bring boldness.

He opened his blue eyes, “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Ever.”

I kissed him, never blinking, bearing witness. This was Rhaella the Defiant, who would take what she wanted, who would choose the future she made for herself. 

 

As he slipped into me, Brynden whispered, “I will marry you, Princess. Only you.” 

I knew he meant every word. I knew he would ask for my hand but I would never be given to him. With every thrust, I was sealing it in the blood of my maidenhead. This was the only way. Silently, I prayed to the Seven, the Old Gods of the First Men, and the dead gods Old Valyria. I prayed to anyone who might answer me. Make me pregnant. Let me be dishonored, ruined. Let me be happy.

I do not remember much of those three days but it has been over two decades ago. It is silly the things I remember; the mole on his shoulder, his hip bones, the way his hair looked down in the firelight. And I do remember the way he spoke my name. Rhaella.

For three nights, I snuck to Brynden ’s rooms with a flagon of wine. I do not think we touched the wine after the first night. Before dawn, I would slip back to my rooms. In the day, I would sit by Ser Duncan who grew stronger every day. As if Grandfather could see the future, Ser Duncan’s health came back quickly, too quickly. It made me wonder if Mab had given Ser Duncan something to make him ill so he could be left. A darker thought was that Grandfather gave it to Ser Duncan himself so that Ser Duncan would not try to stop him. 

On the third night, we fell asleep. I woke in the dawn to Brynden kissing my neck. He whispered, “ I dreamed of our children, Rhaella. A boy and a girl. They were beautiful, running through a castle, but it was not Riverrun. They had silver hair and purple eyes. You were laughing and we were so happy.”

 

I kissed him, but my heart was sinking. I thought of the potion in my trunks. I had just enough for one more sip. I pulled him to me, smiling, as outside the sky grew light, “Tell me, Brynden.” 

 

It was at this moment there was a knocking at the door. I pulled the blanket to cover my nakedness. Brynden went to the door pulling his pants on. However, those knocking on the door did not wait. Instead, Hoster, his brother, walked in with several Tully guards. Lord Hoster said nothing to me except for apologies. 

But the guards dragged his brother into the hallway. Shutting the door, I could hear him speak harshly at his brother, “Have you lost your sense? You have committed treason. You do not have the King or her father’s permission. The King could remove your hands, as well as your head. You have defiled the King’s granddaughter, you fool. You will marry the Darry girl now. I am sick of your grumbling and your stupidity.”

 

I did not hear anymore because I could hear them dragging him away. I did not know what to do. So, I dressed quickly to stop them. When I was finished and opened the door, Hoster was waiting for me and there was no sign of Brynden. To me, he was all kindness. He had the guards escort me to my chambers. He had the kitchen make me breakfast and tea. 

Before I went to see Ser Duncan, Hoster brought me more tea to soothe me. He apologized for his brother’s behavior and hoped there was no offense. Calmly, I spoke, “Lord Hoster, your brother has brought me happiness. I am not offended.”

 

Hoster smiled but it looked like he swallowed something unpleasant. He spoke sweetly, “My brother is impulsive. He has acted without talking to our father or yours. It is a personality flaw of his. I brought you some more tea, my lady. It will help keep you well while this sickness runs through Riverrun. It has helped Ser Duncan. The Maester swears on it. Ser Duncan is so recovered that he states your party should depart by the week’s end.”

I was sick of Hoster and his sweetness and his tea. I drank it quickly and spoke, “My Lord, where is Brynden?”

Hoster spoke, his face was apologetic, “Unfortunately, my brother has taken ill. He must stay in his quarters for the rest of your stay. So, as not to infect anyone in your party.”

I looked at him helplessly. Hoster smiled and left. 

 

When I went to see Ser Duncan, he was out of his bed. He seemed steady and well. When he saw me, he smiled and I knew he knew nothing of me and Brynden. The Lord Commander spoke gently to me. I think tomorrow I will be well enough to ride. The way to Winterfell is long but I think we may have some company. The King has sent word to the Vale.”

“Ser Duncan, do you think you will be well enough?”

Ser Duncan looked at me and spoke, “Princess, the King has need of his Lord Commander. He has given me his command and I will take you to Winterfell to meet young Lord Stark, but we must hurry. The trip is long and my heart is heavy for my King. We will leave tomorrow.”

I left his room and thought about protesting or telling him the truth. Neither sounded like a solid plan. In fact, it sounded like a temper tantrum a spoiled girl might throw. I walked back to my room with sadness in my heart. As I entered my room, my stomach cramped and I felt my courses come. They were early. 

Suddenly, I knew what had happened. I was a stupid girl tricked by a Lord into drinking a purgative to protect his brother. It was not a tonic, but moon tea and any hope of marrying Brynden Tully were gone. As my blood ran between my legs, I saw the chances for my happiness bleed out as well as his dream of our daughter and son. 

 

The following day, Ser Duncan and I with our company headed toward the North. I remember thinking that what had once seemed so exciting, now was filled with memories of lives not lived and words of wisdom and prophecy, all of this swirling in the ache of my broken heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.. we are finally near the end. My goal is to get this finished this month. Hopefully.... 
> 
> I was rereading it and I really had fun writing this. There were so many little easter eggs and what-ifs? It has been a bit tougher than I had originally thought but I think I like it. 
> 
> So here is the little reason why Brynden refuses to marry another woman... 
> 
> If you notice, in this chapter, Rhaella starts addressing the reader more as if she is writing it. It will make sense at the end. 
> 
> Also, I went back and forth to whether it would be a big deal if she married a second son. Of course, for the story to progress, she can't marry Brynden. I kinda landed in this place where I felt if there were more Targaryens that it would matter less who Rhaella married. Since she is the only one and potential heir if Aerys doesn't have children, her husband will be very important, as he may be a Consort to the Queen. 
> 
> So, there is the theory that Aegon V was responsible for the burning of Summerhall and possibly his intention was to kill either Rhaegar or Rhaella to bring the dragons back. This story touches a little on this here and how Ser Duncan would feel about that...
> 
> Oh yep- Hoster and his moon tea.


	6. Jon Arryn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow- This story has gotten long but I promise the last two chapters are mostly written. If the stars align, I might get the 7th chapter out today as well. So in writing this story, I realized I did not include the Arryns. Jon isn't too old for him to be considered a match for the Princess and the Arryns have been allies and intermarried into House Targaryen before. I could not get Rhaella easily into the Eyrie and back to Winterfell before the Tragedy at Summerhall. So I brought Jon Arryn to her. 
> 
> Truth be told, I liked the future that Jon and Rhaella had ( I had written their whole chapter) but in rereading this story, it did not fit well. So I dumped it.
> 
> If you are wondering, I added two more chapters to finish it. I was going to try and do it in six but I hit 14 or 15 pages for that chapter and decided to split them up. I appreciate everyone's patience and thanks for reading.

By the time we reached the Inn at the Crossroads, I was certain that Ser Duncan had figured out something of what had happened at Riverrun. After all, he may have been close to seventy years old but he was quick and had lived among our family for most of that time. Ser Duncan knew my family. So it was certain he noticed my sorrow. For the first week, I would cry myself to sleep. Ser Duncan never spoke of my tear-stained cheeks in the morning as we rode.

Once he asked if I would like to ride in the wheelhouse. “The road to Winterfell is long. I do not want you to be uncomfortable. Riding on a horse can be difficult for a lady, especially someone so young.”

Even though his eyes were kind, I wondered if he was worried about me or my maidenhead. Perhaps, he had thought riding in the open air had made my mood change, that the physical exertion was too much or maybe he was tired of riding next to a moody girl, sullen and sad... “No, Ser. I am fine on the back of this horse. I was meant to ride dragons and in a different time, I might have. I can not bear to be in that box any longer, all cramped in with my thoughts. The fresh air helps. I would rather throw myself into the river than go back to that.”

He had laughed but it sounded nervous. “I would keep you well and happy, Princess. We cannot have you in the river. I am seventy and I do not need to fish you out..”

Looking back, I can remember how distracted he seemed. But even with his own distractions, the old knight would try and make me smile, showing me curiosities and small things; a deer and her fawn, some daisies on the roadside, a hawk flying across the blue sky. He would show me sights on the road, famous battles, places of interest, spots from when he and Grandfather were young and had taken this road to the North all the way to the Wall.

We stopped at Pennytree and he told me the story of the first man he squired for, Ser Arlan. He seemed sad but smiled, telling me of the story of how he was found in the streets of Flea Bottom and given a chance. “Sometimes, life seems good but then another door opens and we see how much more there could be. Princess, you will see, life will open another door and your life will be better than you ever thought. It might seem impossible, but life is strange. I was destined to be another hungry mouth in Fleabottom and I am the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Life is strange.”

I let his words sit in my heart. All I wanted was to ride back to Riverrun but as we rode through the Riverlands, I noticed more and more. Perhaps, without the King and such a big party, I started to notice the smallfolk. The smallfolk would gather or the road and throw flowers, seeds, bits of paper. Little girls would run to give me flowers or sweets. An old woman gave me a beautifully embroidered dragon on a handkerchief. Little boys would cheer and raise their sticks, mimicking the Lord Commander, pretending they were Ser Duncan. Everywhere we went people were overjoyed to see us. As I watched them cheer for us, I began to realize that if I did nothing that these would be the people who would suffer and die. I started to think of each future, all I had learned and I had begun to realize what Mab had said. It was my blood where the magic lay and that Aerys and I must have a child.

At night, instead of crying, I started a journal writing all the things I had seen on my journey, all the things I had learned, and all the things I had seen in those future dreams. I noticed there were some things that seemed so important that regardless of my choices they remained. The few that I had seen over and over were that Aerys would go mad, that Aerys and I needed to have a child together, and that ultimately, a terrible army of the dead would come and wipe us all out if certain things had not happened. It seemed Tywin was important and if he was not appeased, he would kill Rhaegar’s wife, Princess Elia. It also seemed that Robert Baratheon would also love this girl, Lyanna.   
I would spend sleepless nights searching my head for facts I might have forgotten. We had spent the night at the Inn at the Crossroads and it was there I set my heart on what needed to be done. It seemed I must have at least one child with Aerys, either through rape, or my own manipulation, or desire. Regardless of how the child was made, the child must be. The other thing I grew certain of is I would not sit idly by and watch my brother and future nephew destroy our House. I realized of all things I had to stop either Rhaegar or Aerys from having our House overthrown and starting a war which we would lose. I realized with a heavy heart that I would have to go back to King’s Landing and Aerys’ cruelty. I thought about the future and if I was going mad as my brother would. 

As we were finishing breakfast, I had looked outside. In the distance, I saw a large group of men in armor and the banners they carried were white and sky blue. It was House Arryn’s men, riding from the Vale. 

I looked to Ser Duncan and he smiled. “This is your Grandfather's doing.”

As Lord Jon Arryn, the Warden of the East, Lord of the Vale dismounted, I noticed how warmly Lord Duncan greeted Lord Arryn, which meant he held him in high regard. I wondered what events had happened in the past to make them such good friends. The other thing I noticed is that Lord Arryn was still a very handsome man, even in his forties. He had grey streaks in his blonde hair, but that only seemed to add to his charm, and his blue eyes sparkled when he smiled. He did not laugh often but he had a warm smile. As he bowed and kissed my hand, I spoke, “My Lord, we are glad to see you. Why are you here?”

“The King requested I come and to escort you since he had to cut short his progress. If the Princess can not make her way to Eyrie, I would bring the Eyrie to her.” He spoke with levity as if he was teasing. However, he might have been the first man who I had met on this journey who did not look at me like I was a potential wife. I found it pleasing and Lord Arryn became a good companion and a friend. In fact, Jon Arryn may have been the first friend I had who wasn’t paid to either befriend me or protect me. 

Lord Arryn was witty and good at conversation, a skill the Lord Commander was terrible at. Every day, Ser Duncan rode us hard. I did not know what we were riding against but it seemed like time. When we would rest, Ser Duncan would look toward the southeast where King’s Landing lay and the King. Lord Arryn would tease and remind him that Rhaella was just a girl and couldn’t keep up with such a pace. Ser Duncan laughed, ”She is a Dragon, Lord Arryn. Princess Rhaella is made of stronger stuff. She will tell you.

 

As we rode, Ser Duncan, Lord Arryn and I began to laugh more and look to the south less. It was strange to be around such a man, a man who recently had lost his second wife, leaving him widowed and childless, but he was still kind and still could find laughter. Lord Jon was a patient man who seemed to understand human natures, our triumphs, and all our failings and had been burdened by pain and tragedy but did not seem to let it make him stony or coldhearted. 

As we rode, he never tried to win my heart and my hand as others had. He saw me as a person and it was a different experience for me. Instead of considering him as a potential groom, I could ask his opinion and talk to him about the road, my thoughts, and my opinions. Lord Arryn would listen and engage me in rich conversation, never sharp if I disagreed, never condescending if I did not know.

I asked Lord Jon why he had come. He told me he rode to the North because his King had asked him and he held the King in high regard. But there was another reason, he had been communicating with Lord Stark for over a year and had a great interest in meeting the young lord. 

I asked him more about Lord Stark. “Rickard Stark is still a young man, barely seventeen. His father died almost two years ago, leaving him in the care of his Uncle, a Lord Rogers. It seemed that there was some sort of struggle with other relatives over his succession, but Lord Stark, even so young, was able to squash all of it. However, when the dust cleared, his uncle, Lord Harold Rogers was dead. He reached out to me for some counsel. We have been writing back and forth for some time. He seems a fine man, loyal, dutiful and ambitious. It is said that when your neighbor becomes ambitious it is good to meet the man. “

I wondered what ambitions young Lord Stark had. For a man like Lord Arryn to speak so highly of him spoke volumes of this young man I was headed to meet. Knowing that he was the father of Lyanna, Brandon, and Ned Stark just added to the mystique of this man. What kind of man would he be? 

When I had asked Lord Duncan if he knew Rickard Stark, he spoke that he had gone to Winterfell years ago and even Lord Stark’s father, Edwyle, two years dead, had not been born yet. However, as we rode North, I would meet this man shrouded in mystery soon enough. 

At the Twins, Lord Frey offered me three of his sons to marry, if I wanted any of them. He spoke of what a good and faithful subject he had been. However, all his sons seemed to have the same weasel quality as their father and I politely refused. After all, the second son of House Tully would be better than any son from House Frey and I was not granted that wish. 

The following night, we spent the night at the small timber and mud keep of House Vypren. We were on the borders of the North and the Riverlands, more North than I had ever been. The landscape had become heavily forested with more bogs and swamps. Lord Vypren said he would send his best guides with us to Moat Cailin so that we would not drown or be eaten by a lizard log. It was there we received word that Lord Stark was waiting for us at Moat Caillin to escort us himself to Winterfell.

 

That night after dinner, I went to the small but overgrown godswood. I remember touching the hearts tree, a twisted old weirwood. For a second, I saw a flash and smelled wildfire and burned flesh, a man in armor above green flames. I saw Jon Arryn, holding a baby in his arms, and an old woman crying in an even more overgrown godswood. I heard the voice of the man in my dreams, the man called Uncle.”Rhaella, go North.”

I pulled from the tree as if it burned. It was then I heard the rustle of the leaves and the steps behind me. For a moment, I thought it was Mab and thought to flee. When I turned, I saw it was Lord Arryn. His blue eyes were the color of his banners and showed concern, “What is wrong, my Lady?”

I looked at him and shook my head. I could not find my words and I did not know how to begin.  
Lord Jon stepped closer and spoke, “You seem haunted by a deep sorrow for a girl so young. Why are you so sad?”

I wanted to tell him I had lived several lifetimes and so many ended sadly. I wanted to tell him of my plan to go back to King’s Landing, a place I hated, in order to save my House and the world from destruction. I wanted to tell him how unfair it was that I must suffer cruelty and others my age had no care or worries. I even thought about telling him of Brynden. Perhaps, Lord Arryn could help me. 

Instead of telling him any of this, I spoke, “In Valyrian, names starting with Rhae mean sadness, sacrifice, sorrow, grief. My father chose my name. He speaks and reads Valyrian fluently. Why would he do that? Perhaps, he wanted me to have this sorrow.

They were the words of a sad broken-hearted girl, still wanting a happy life instead of the life that was destined for me. 

Jon spoke softly, “I do not know. Perhaps, he knew nothing of the meaning and he just like the sound it made against his lips, or the way you smile just a little at the end of it when you speak it. Perhaps, you have lived too long around prophecies and other people’s dreams. Maybe you should find out what you would like to do.” 

For a moment, I thought to myself what future Jon Arryn might hold for me. In that hall of my dreams, I had seen a banner for House Arryn and I still had a sip left. Perhaps, a life with Jon Arryn would solve all my concerns, all my worries. I went to kiss him and he stopped me gently. “I mean no offense, my Lady, but I am much older than you. I would have you fall in love with a young man who you could speak of your dreams and the meaning of names. A young man who would learn Old Valyrian and help you. I would have you find a young man as intense and thoughtful as you to help each other. Let me escort you to your room, my Lady.” 

I watched him as he led me to my room, always a gentleman. Instead of anger, I felt comfort and care. Perhaps, all things were not set against me. Perhaps, some things were chance. Perhaps, some things were just the way you smiled a little when you spoke them.


	7. Rickard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So-- I wanted Rickard to be a bit like Jaehaerys I, smart, progressive, and still a good warrior. I am rushing to finish this story. One more chapter about the future...

As we approached Moat Cailin, the decaying castle, I saw the white and gray banners of House Stark. Lord Rickard had come to escort us to Winterfell. My heart beat quickly to see the man in person. We could see the men assembling outside in the courtyard. As the Lord Commander helped me from my horse, I looked over him to see the man, finally. 

Lord Stark was not a tall man, Brynden Tully and Steffon Baratheon were taller. I thought to myself that Tywin was as well. But he was not short and he was well made. His dark hair was thick and curled a bit, making him look wild and unruly. He wore dark furs of a wolf and his eyes were grey like his banner. On his hip, he wore a Valyrian steel long sword that may have been one of the biggest weapons I had ever seen. 

 

He bowed and when he lifted himself up, his eyes met mine. He blushed a bit which I found charming. I extended my hand, smiling at the pleasant warm feeling I felt. He kissed it gently and I felt the scratch of his beard.”Welcome to the North, my Lady. I am glad you have made it here safely.”

Ser Duncan, Lord Arryn, and Lord Stark made their introductions and I watched them. I watched the way the sunlight made his eyes squint and the hard line of his jaw. I did not realize that I was starring but Lord Rickard caught my eyes and smiled. I felt my face flush. 

Lord Stark had given us the option of staying here for the day or continuing to ride. Ser Duncan said we must continue. He explained to Lord Stark that he did not mean to rush the visit but he needed to get back to the King’s side and they could not tarry long. Lord Stark nodded and we continued our journey.

On a horse, he looked like a centaur or a wilding. Covered in furs, on his great black horse, I thought he looked like a First Man, a King of Winter from the Age of Legends. For the first day or so, he did not speak to me much. I thought perhaps he was not pleased with me but I noticed how his eyes would trail after me. Instead, I thought he is unsure around women. Every night we camped, he would practice with the other men. Rickard had great skill with a sword as much as even Brynden but he had no desire to flaunt or boast of his skill. 

On the third day on the road, I settled in to ride my horse beside him. “You are wonderful with that sword, my lord. I am wondering why I have never seen you at the tourneys. You would win for certain.”

He smiled, “I am no knight, my Lady. I do not need to show my skill for tokens or gold.”

I spoke, “Perhaps, you could win the heart of a lady and name her the Queen of Love and Beauty.” 

“I would rather a lady give me her heart over more than my skill with a sword.”

Lord Rickard began to talk. Having been the only child of his mother’s that lived past the first year, his mother had been slightly overprotective. She had died when he was seven in childbirth. His father had taken over his care by handing him a sword. But still, some of this past could be seen. He was a bit bookish which reminded me of Grandfather. He seemed to know a great deal of history, philosophy, and science. In fact, he had several books that he had brought to read. 

He had been raised with only his cousin Lyarra as his companion. Lyarra was his age. It had been assumed that they would marry but Rickard had not announced it yet. When I asked him why, Rickard had said, “Lyarra is my only family and I love her. But I do not think she understands me or agrees with me.”

As we continued north, Rickard told me of his plans to modernize the North. “The North is seen as backwoods, behind the time. But the North has more land than any of the other Seven Kingdoms. We are rich in timber and land. Our soil is rich, as our rivers are teeming with fish. The Northern Houses need to develop or we will continue this way. I would like to see more cities or industry. I have been talking to the Manderly’s about a school in White Harbor. No one wants to send their sons as far as the Reach and so no one goes to the Citadel. But if we had a school in White Harbor, maybe we could have more learned men. Or issuing a charter to Barrowtown. I have been talking to a young man, a builder who is talking of a better cheaper way to make paper. We are talking about trying to build a mill. My Maester is a young man and he is full of ideas. Sometimes, we stay up late, speaking of such things.” 

It was refreshing to hear him talk of creating a world, a modern world where a lowborn man with skill could have an opportunity as well as the nobles. I thought how much my Grandfather would have like Lord Rickard.

I asked him what he read. He spoke shyly, “I brought several books when I received word the King was coming. I reread all I could on House Targaryen. Mostly that is what I brought.”

I smiled, delighted that he had thought to read about me what he could find. I wondered if I could find anything helpful in those books. I spoke, “Perhaps, I could borrow one of those books.” 

“Of course, my Lady.” Rickard had answered.

There was a sweetness about Rickard, a gentleness like Doran, but a man’s gentleness. He continued speaking, “When we get to Winterfell, I can show you, my models. I built them myself to show the lords all the potential the North holds. There is a young man in White Harbor who is working on a printing press, an invention to reproduce books faster than with quill and hand. Here in the North, there are no Maesters or septons to transcribe books. So, we have fewer books than in the South. But with a paper mill to make paper and a printing machine to make books, the North could be as knowledgeable as the South in a generation or two. Perhaps, people will look to the North for the knowledge. If you had time I could take you to White Harbor. The Manderly’s are gracious hosts.” 

Lord Arryn laughed, “Lord Stark, the Princess might be a bit bored of your conversation of modernizing the North. I’m sure the Princess is used to flattery and affection, not engineering and education. Ladies like laughter and lightheartedness.” 

Lord Stark looked at me, sheepishly.

I smiled and spoke, reaching for his hand, “My dear Lord Stark, your conversation is refreshing. I am tired of men promising me happiness and pressing for kisses. I am much more interested in how we can make the Seven Kingdoms more prosperous and stronger. Who knows what the future holds? We must become stronger.” 

I realized that I was more than attracted to Lord Rickard Stark, that I liked his personality. He and I were both loyal, honorable and we both wanted a better world. We both wanted to protect our House and have a better future for the people. 

When we arrived in Winterfell, I was introduced to Lyarra Stark. I was charmed immediately. She was a gentle lady with good manners. She seemed to care a great deal for Lord Stark but she did not entirely understand him. Often, I could see the look on her face when he would speak of his models. 

On the first day, we were at Winterfell, Rickard showed me all his models. He had an entire table that was a map of the North with models of White Harbor, Winterfell, The Wall, and other sites of interest in the North. Some of the models were even mechanical and if he turned a handle a cart would move up to the top of the Wall, or a Stark wolf banner would be unfurled. He showed me his model of a printing press and a paper mill, using the water from a river to help. I saw the industrious dreamer and when he laughed, I would laugh.

I had seen Lord Stark in the future as a stern man. I wondered when would that happen. Perhaps, Lyarra died and his heart hardened. Perhaps, in his future with Lyarra she discouraged his ideas or persuaded him to dismiss them. Maybe the North had been unsupportive in his dreams. 

On the second day, I noticed how Lyarra seemed quite taken with Lord Arryn. They went for a ride in the wolfswood and I noticed how gentle he was when he spoke with her and how happy she seemed in his company. Rickard did not notice that. Instead, he noticed the tracks in the ground, the color of the leaves and the way the stream moved. 

I was glad for Lyarra. Even in the few days that I had been here, she did all she could to make me feel welcomed. She came to my room to see if I could braid her hair in a Southron way. I did not think my fingers were up to such a task but she asked so sweetly, I tried. She talked about not having girls her age and feeling lonely. Lyarra spoke of feeling that she would be pressured into marrying Rickard, and how she was unsure she wanted that. It felt like she was a friend I had never had. That night, Lyarra stayed in my room and we told each other girlish secrets. She told me that she had kissed Rickard twice but that this night, she had kissed Jon Arryn in the hallway. Lyarra said she had found kissing Rickard pleasant but when she kissed Jon, she thought her heart would burst. In a loud giggling declaration, Lyarra spoke that she might love Jon Arryn.

I thought about telling her secrets but what could I say that she could hear. I told her of how I had kissed four men, Aerys, Steffon Baratheon, Doran Martell, and Tywin Lannister. I could not speak of Brynden. It seemed too private. I whispered to her, “You must tell Lord Arryn and Lord Rickard. I have kissed four men but I have not felt that. It must mean true love. You must act.”

Even as I said the words, I felt sad and tired, as if I was acting another person’s life.

Lyarra caught my hand in hers. She was the sister I never had. Joanna had only ever tried to compete with me. But Lyarra was all sweetness and dark hair, “Thank you! I will. Rickard will consent to it if he knew I wanted this. What better way to make Southron connection than through marriage...If you marry Rickard, he would not be alone. I would not be leaving him. I see the way he looks at you. You are the only girl that has ever stopped him from looking at a book or a horse or stop practicing in the yard. If you married him, we would be family. All of us. Our children would be cousins.”

She left the room in a rush to go to sleep because in the morning she would tell her heart to Jon and Rickard.

I could not sleep, restless with nightmares of futures promised. The next day, I woke with the dawn, wondering if I ever slept. I dressed in the simplest dress I could find and went to the godswood to walk and find peace. I found I liked the ancient overgrown godswood of Winterfell as if it was a sacred magical place. As I walked, I came upon Lord Rickard polishing his sword under the hearts tree, 

“My Lady, I did not expect to see you up so early.”

He slipped Ice in its scabbard and rose from the ground. I spoke hesitantly, “I have been given to dark dreams of late.”

He stood there, “Is there anything I can do?”

As the daylight grew around us, I kissed him under the red leaves of the weirwood my feet in the mud. As we kissed, I could feel an ancient powerful magic welling up from the ground. More importantly, I felt a heat inside our kiss. I wondered if he could feel the power as it coursed from the earth and the roots trees up to my mouth where it met his, mingling with desire and care. 

I was breathless when he pulled away. Rickard spoke against my ear, “We had received word that said you were like every girl carrying on about dresses and tourneys. We have had word of how many tourneys and parades you have had, how many men have vyed for your favor, how silly and vain you are. But you are not the girl we have heard about in the stories. You are different. You seem older, much older. You are smart and funny, and … beautiful.” 

Rickard said beautiful with hesitancy like he might not say it. 

 

Reaching up, I touched the curls of his dark hair on his shoulders. I wondered if I should kiss him and pull a stray dark hair from his shoulder. Later, when I was in my room, I would drink the last swallow of the potion and see the future of my life with him. As I thought about that, Rickard grew closer to me. The second time we kissed, Rickard kissed me and pulled me closer to him. When I pulled away for the second time, I knew without any potion I could make this place my life, a good life. I giggled a bit slightly tipsy from the idea that I had made my mind up. 

Rickard did not smile, “I do not play, my Lady.”

“A kiss, my Lord, is a simple thing.”

Then Rickard smiled, “I mean to be the last man you kiss, ever again.” 

Surely, I would be safe here. In this world, I would be the mother of Lyanna. I remembered that the words that Mab had spoken... Silly girl, you have killed mankind.

I would not be a willing sacrifice, dutiful to the blade. I would put up a fight. Fire and blood.

I looked at him, “My Lord, you may think I am bold. These past few weeks have endeared me to you and I love the wildness of the North. You know why I am here to seek a husband. Perhaps, you might grant me a favor and marry me.”

 

I took him by the hand and led him to Ser Duncan who waking from his bed, still in his nightclothes. Laughing, he hugged me unexpectedly. Ser Duncan pulled a letter from the King and my father agreeing to the match. Later, I would ask him if Grandfather had always known I would marry Lord Stark. Ser Duncan told me that my Grandfather had sent him to Winterfell with two, one agreeing to a match with Jon Arryn and one to Rickard Stark. 

We had a simple double wedding the following night in front of the heart’s tree; Jon Arryn and Lyarra Stark and Rickard and myself. It was a small feast and my husband told me we would have a larger one in a moon, giving his bannermen time to make the journey. 

“My lady wife was too hasty and I could not wait,” Rickard said to me that night as he walked me to our room, laughing. Since there were no lords, we did not have a bedding. I did not feel bad about that at all. I found it to be humiliating.

Our first night was rushed and awkward. Rickard was eager and though he had no skill, he tried to make it pleasant. But his inexperience made it rushed. However, as he finished, Rickard pulled out and spilled on the sheets. 

I looked at him, “Rickard… why? We must in order for a child.”

He kissed my forehead and lay down carefully next to me, throwing the dirty sheet off the bed. I know but I have been reading. It has been said that a lady might be too young, even if she is old enough to be married. My mother too was young and after me, she never had another living child. Lord Arryn’s first wife was only fourteen and she died. You are barely fourteen. We can wait. We can wait for a son. There will be time.” 

“But I ..?”

He kissed me. “Princess, Jaehaerys, the wisest King, waited until his Queen was sixteen. We will wait. The sheets are dirty. The Lords will be satisfied that we are married. There are many things we can do. I do not know them but we can figure them out. You are not a maiden and we are married in truth. None will care if a child does not come in the next two years. When you are sixteen, I promise we will have plenty. I mean to spend the rest of my days with you. We do not have to rush.”

Rickard sat up and took his knife. Cutting his thumb, he dripped dark red blood on the sheets. He kissed me and laughed, “Because you had to ride a horse across the Seven Kingdoms, stubborn woman.”

I laughed and kissed him. Rickard never asked about my maidenhead. It did not bother him as it might other men. Moving forward, he meant to be the only man I would ever be with. I whispered against his ear, “Perhaps, we could figure out what other things are.”

Growling against my ear, Rickard, my husband, said, “Absolutely.”


End file.
